


Who Are You, Really?

by fouryearslater (CheshireCatLife)



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments (Movies), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Humor, Attempt at Humor, Child Death, Grief/Mourning, I've mixed the books and the TV show, Inter-dimensional travel, M/M, Research, You could say, and fairly vivid description of it, and yes, but I've always enjoyed it this way, but just a lot of character focus, but there's plot, double malec, in the ultimate mashup, inter-dimensional dating, it's just so much malec, read at your own risk because it'll only be tagged here, this is not really how tagging works, this is quite a lot more character development and research than it is plot, very very vivid description of a panic attack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 50,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21684853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheshireCatLife/pseuds/fouryearslater
Summary: Inter-dimensional travel is a thing now, apparently. There are versions of himself out there, struggling in the same ways, facing the same moments of pride, of hardship, of love.But, well, if there’s one thing Magnus has gained from the whole ordeal, it’s that meeting his clone was not a good idea.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 34
Kudos: 71





	1. Who

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome!
> 
> I thought I'd begin with a big thank you to anyone who's ready. I'm actually very happy with the first chapter of this and I'm really hoping to write more. The interaction between the two Shadowhunter-verses is really exciting for me as someone who loves the books and has been re-reading them and is finally finishing the TV show (I think over a year late).
> 
> Also, I'm very big on interaction. So, if you've got this far, I have a favour to ask. I would absolutely love if you would spare the time at the end of this chapter to write a review (or after a few chapters, if they get written, which I hope they will). It sounds so cheesy but it's so helpful just to do a what went well (WWW) and an even better if (EBI). A rating out of ten would also be great but I understand that it can make people uncomfortable (although I like bad reviews if it means I can improve). Thank you so much to anyone who does so!
> 
> Now, without further ado, enjoy.
> 
> ~fouryearslater

It was a quiet night between missions, the Brooklyn skyline shrouded by clouded darkness, a Winter chill spilling through the open French doors. Magnus sighed, head tipped back and resting on the backrest of his sofa. Tension seeped from him like blood from a wound, unwinding its way from his body. The thought only caused another disparate sigh; he didn’t want to think about blood anymore. There’d been enough of it recently. Turning his head, he watched as Alec smiled and sat down next to him, brown eyes wide and earnest. “You alright?” he asked gently, twisting his tumbler in his hand. Magnus, despite not managing to get Alec to drink much, could persuade him with lager or spiced rum. Magnus counted it as a success.

“Of course,” Magnus deflected. Alec’s eyes bored into his own and with another put-out sigh, he revealed, “just tired. It’s been a long week.” Alec’s eyes saddened but he nodded his agreement. Jace had been running after Clary again, looking longingly at the now mundane redhead. Alec had had to chase Jace around himself, dragging him out of a plethora of precarious situations. Magnus, on the other hand, had been dealing with a pompous client who wouldn’t take no for an answer, even resorting to stalking him on multiple occasions. Alec had been there to stop him the last time, but that didn’t mean it was the end of it.

For now, Alec took comfort in the ring on his finger, brushing his thumb against the smooth metal. Magnus watched as Alec spun the silver around and around, eventually stopping him by intertwining their fingers. Metal brushed metal just as skin brushed skin. Both of them let lazy smiles slip onto their lips. Magnus, ever for the dramatic, used his free hand to conjure himself a martini and rested his head on Alec’s shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Magnus revealed; his facade had long since gone around Alec but there was still an anxious tempo to his heart whenever his lips went loose.

“I’m glad too.” Alec looked down at Magnus, everything about him gentle despite his nature being anything but. Eyes darted downwards and neither could have said who leaned down first, but their lips brushed gently before Magnus urged them on, leaning inwards-

“Alec! It’s going to be okay. Come on, Alec. Come on.” Magnus’ head snapped up, as did Alec’s. That wasn’t Magnus shouting…

Except it was.

Both of them shot up from their place, Magnus with a click to send his drink away as Alec practically threw his at the table, pulling the seraph blade from the sheath on his hip. His bow was at the Institute. It had been stupid of him to think he wouldn’t need it but it had been too long since they’d been attacked in their own home.

As Alec waited patiently for the intruder to appear, Magnus checked his wards, preparing his magic with gritted teeth. But before he could even push his magic out, a pair stumbled into view. There was a tall man, Indonesian in origin, just like Magnus, with cat eyes that shone brightly in the light. The man slung over his shoulder, slighter in height but possibly wider in build, looked gaunt, blood trickling from his abdomen. Black hair stuck to his pasty skin (if the man was that pale some of it had to be natural, Magnus thought) and his dark blue eyes were dulled by death, or near so at least.

Alec’s blade suddenly shone brighter in the loft, pointed threateningly at the intruding pair. The smaller boy, looking seconds from unconsciousness, muttered something along the lines of “he didn’t even say a name” before he collapsed into the taller man’s arms. A panicked “Alec!” was ripped from the Indonesian’s chest, causing Alec’s stance to falter as Magnus shot his Alec a discombobulated look.

“What’s going on here?” Magnus ordered, using a surprising amount of authority in place of his usual superfluous charm. The other man looked up, cat eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “I don’t know why you’re in my apartment, or why someone decided to take out a floor and redecorate, but either help me or get out.” The man, shrouded in black clothing, was still striking. There was copious amounts of glitter around his eyes, although all dark, and his hair was spiked into sharp points on his head, unlike Magnus’ almost quiff-like look. There was an aura of gravitas around this man, although the nail varnish and makeup suggested just as superfluous an attitude as Magnus himself.

“What’s happened?” Alec asked, staring emptily at the unconscious boy (because dear god, now that he had passed out, he looked so young).

“A demon bite. We were…we were in Alicante with the rest of them and someone came at him from behind. I was too late.” The man looked haunted for a moment before shaking it off, laying Alec down on one of the sofas (and was that a moment of appreciation Magnus caught as the intruder looked at his designer sofa?)

“What kind of demon?” Magnus asked, approaching the intruder. There was something wrong here. The more he looked, the more familiar the man’s attitude became. As much as the looks of the boy bleeding on his sofa reminded him of Alec.

The boy’s name was Alec for god’s sake.

“Rahab.” Magnus nodded, scrutinised the other man for a moment and set to work. They moved in tandem, so synchronised that Alec couldn’t even begin to speak. Questions swirled in his mind. Who were these people? Why did they break-in? Why did they think it was their apartment? And most importantly of all, why are they...well, us?

“Alec,” Magnus suddenly called, beckoning his husband to his side. “Energy.” The command was simple and familiar. Magnus, having lost his magic once (which was rather enough times, thank you very much), put more significance on it now. Depletion made him wary, even terrified, reminding him of memories he’d rather forget. So now, he and Alec had a deal. If it was important, Alec would willingly share his energy to make sure Magnus didn’t have to go there again. Of course, that was not always possible. Sometimes spells required even more than two people could offer, even if they were both strong. But, it helped. More than Alec could ever know.

Alec held out his hand, relishing in the small scratch of their rings as they intertwined their fingers, and let his body go. It was easier for Magnus to tap into if he relaxed, giving himself away willingly. And the quicker this went, the better. Looking down at the dying boy, Alec knew he couldn’t let him die. He was too young. And yes, plenty of Shadowhunters died young, but that didn’t mean they deserved it. And, well, maybe just as importantly, there were questions to answer.

Alec missed the passing minutes in a haze of foggy dizziness and exhaustion. Magnus stayed strong, bending over the unfamiliar (yet all too familiar) body, magic spilling from his fingers like a waterfall of electricity. By his side was his parallel, hunched over further, looking like he was about to collapse on top of the boy. But he kept strong, magic more violent than Magnus’ own yet softer looking, a true waterfall, sparkling in the light rather than sparking in the dark.

Magnus didn’t even realise when it was done. Exhaustion had begun to wrack his body and he practically collapsed onto Alec’s body, just as Alec did the same. The stranger finally let an ever-so-small smile slip onto his lips and lay a hand over the boy’s chest.

Heavy breaths filled the quiet as the boy finally blinked his eyes open, leaving Magnus enraptured by the blue. He had to admit, it was a favourite combination of his: the dark hair, light-eyed look. Not that Alexander didn’t have a lovely hair-eye combination but the other was, historically, a favourite.

“Magnus?” The boy muttered, staring past Magnus and to the other man. It seemed to be enough to blink his Alexander back to attention.

“Okay, okay, what is going on here? And don’t be cryptic, you owe us now.”

The boy cowered for a moment, looking both embarrassed and worried, before he took a deep breath and put a mask down over his face. “We were fighting in Alicante with everyone else. I promise we didn’t desert. These lights just burst in the sky and suddenly we were here and I was injured so we thought it would be best to go to Magnus’ loft. Here, I mean.”

“But this is our-”

“Magnus, not the time,” Alec interrupted, scowling. “What are your full names?” He interrogated, eyeing the pair as the boy sat up and grabbed onto the other Magnus’ arm.

“Magnus Bane,” the taller man said as the boy took deep heaving breaths (really, it was his own fault, he shouldn’t have sat up so quickly). “And this,” he paused, seemingly for effect, “is Alexander Gideon Lightwood.” The man looked like he revelled in the name, balancing it on his tongue as he accentuated the vowels and punctuated the consonants.

Alec hid his wide-eyed stare behind a pointed look at Magnus. His Magnus. God, this was going to be confusing. “Well, I think we better introduce ourselves too then. I’m Alexander Lightwood and this is-”

“Magnus Bane. It’s a pleasure to meet a…pair such as yourselves.” Magnus lay the charm on thick and whilst it seemed to affect the blue-eyed boy, causing a blush to rush up onto his cheeks, the taller man didn’t seem to care for flirtatious charm.

The man narrowed his eyes. “Is this magic? I’m not familiar with any…inaccurate cloning spells.”

“No, I would have detected it if it was in New York.” Magnus stood and narrowed his eyes, deep in thought. It washed over him suddenly, making Alec suppress a smile. Magnus’ business mode really shouldn’t have been something to be happy about but he was just so…by the Angel, Alec didn’t even know but he liked it. Alec watched as the ideas formed together, creating a cohesive picture of possible outcomes, punctuated by each footstep on the wooden floor. “How much do Shadowhunters know about alternate dimensions?” He asked Alec.

“Not much. The Warlocks and Faeries know much more. I know that the demons come from another one. But I don’t really know what they are or how many there are.”

“It’s not my area of expertise but I’ve had enough communication with the Fae over the years to know the basics. The main points are that there are alternate dimensions that reflect our own. They often have the same people in similar situations but twisted enough that personalities drift along with it. It’s almost like a…‘what if’ scenario. And these two,” he said, pointing at the pair on the sofa, “could be our ‘other personalities’.”

“So that,” Alec pointed to the blue-eyed boy, “is me?”

“I think so, yes. And, due to whatever battle they’re fighting, they’ve been shoved into the wrong dimension.”

“Valentine was bringing the demons through from the other dimension. Do you think he opened up another?” Other Alec asked (they really needed to sort out names here).

“It’s the most likely reason, yes. And Valentine? Haven’t heard that name in a long time.” Suddenly, other Magnus stood, eyebrows furrowed in an ironic mimicry of Magnus’ earlier action. Pacing along the wooden floor, other Magnus seemed to retreat into himself. In his black battle gear, he looked almost…normal. Or, well, as normal as Magnus could ever get. There were no frills or charm or smiles or laughter. Not even alcohol. This looked like the poisoned warlock who’d had a broken childhood and torturous adulthood.

“What do you think happened to him?” Alec asked under his breath, leaning so he could speak into Magnus’ ear.

“To who? Valentine, you know-”

“No, the other…you. He’s-”

“He’s what I looked like before I met you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I don’t know how far this…other version of us has gotten to in the whole relationship process but they’re definitely not that far.”

“I kissed him in front of the Clave!” other Alec piped up. Clearly, they weren’t as discreet as they thought.

“That you did,” other Magnus said with a crooked smile. It was like watching the ice finally crack. Even if all of this was new, they certainly were beginning to bring down each other’s walls.

“So how long has this been going on?” Magnus asked, placing a hand on his hip. It looked almost judgemental, Alec thought, and huffed a laugh.

“Um…a day?”

“A year,” other Magnus said at the same time. The pair looked at each other and whilst Alec ducked his gaze, Magnus raised a pointed eyebrow. He didn’t bother saying anything more, though. Clearly, they weren’t willing to argue in front of almost strangers. “What about you?”

Alec smiled at Magnus and showed his ring with pride. “Married. As of two months ago.”

“Marriage?!”

“Oh, it’s as new for me as it will be for you,” Magnus said with a wink. “And it’s as fun as you’ve always dreamed it to be.”

The other Magnus tried to hide his shock behind a blank veneer, like ice spreading over his features and leaving them frozen. Alec was having none of it; he could see through the mask on a bad day, never mind a day like today (which was debatably middling, actually). “That whole blank face thing is old, you should really try something else.” Magnus had the guts to look startled as Alec continued his rant. “Whenever something goes wrong and you don’t want to show it, you just go eerily…flat. If anything, it makes it obvious that you’re struggling with your emotions so it’s really not as useful as you think it is.”

“Hey!” His own Magnus argued indignantly. “I preferred it when you were shy.”

“I wasn’t shy!” Alec argued, just as indignantly.

“You still are, Alexander, you’re just much less awkward.”

“Hey!” Alec shouted. Magnus just laughed over him, turning back to his counterpart. “And talking of awkward, I think we should stop talking before pretty boy over there explodes.” Alec suddenly took notice of his counterpart and felt the unnerving urge to comfort him. The boy, blushing all the way down to his feet, seemed to be trying to stare at both Magnus’ at once, entranced by the magnetic display of power and charm. It only seemed to worsen as soon as ‘pretty boy’ passed Magnus’ lips.

“You’re not helping,” Alec griped. “I think we need a plan,” he said, redirecting the conversation to safer areas. Everyone (bar Magnus) seemed glad for it and followed Alec as he shuffled them into Magnus’ office and sat behind the desk like this was his old Institute and not an antique, mahogany desk that had leftover potion ingredients embedded in its cracks (it was the one thing that Magnus did not take enough care of, admittedly). Magnus took a position next to him, leaning against the side of the desk casually as he watched the other Alec shuffle awkwardly about the office, looking at the shelves with wide eyes.

“He seems shocked,” Magnus commented curiously. The other Magnus just shrugged. “I don’t have an office in my apartment. I use a different building.” Magnus was slightly surprised but understood why his counterpart would have done so (having customers in his actual home was so annoying sometimes).

“Enough comparisons,” Alec broke in decisively. “We need a plan. We have two people stuck outside of their own dimension. With their counterparts, I must add, something I’m sure the cosmos won’t like because that’s just our luck as of the last five years. Magnus, do you have any spells that could create inter-dimensional travel?”

Both Magnuses opened their mouths to speak before catching each other’s eyes and quickly shutting up again. Alec sighed. “My Magnus,” he confirmed.

“Nothing concrete but I’ve heard such things have been attempted in the past, but not successfully. I do know that the Fae have inter-dimensional portals but I’m not sure how reliable they are or how they’re navigated.”

“Other Magnus?”

“I am not other,” other Magnus grumbled under his breath but he seemed to let it go quickly enough. “But I know nothing of inter-dimensional travel. Before this, I thought it was only a possible feat for demons and Seelies.”

Alec nodded. “Investigate that then. Magnus, some of these books have to be useful. And anyway, if it’s to do with Edom, we both know you at least know how to travel there.” He paused. “And Alec,” he said, his own name odd on his tongue, “I’m going to need you to come to the Institute with me. We won’t let anyone see you yet; if we can keep this between ourselves it would be good, but I want to see your training. If you’ve travelled through an inter-dimension…portal thing, then something else probably has as well. Because, well, again, that’s just our luck. And if it’s you and me fighting, I need to be able to work with you.” Other Alec nodded, looking a lot more comfortable with the idea of training than he’d been with the whole situation earlier. He was still evidently getting over the injury he’d been inflicted, hands hovering over the old wound, but the pain seemed to have faded and the magic had set in, allowing him a blank facade.

“Any objections?” Collectively, the room shook their heads. Pleased with his own plan, Alec began to direct people around. Magnus looked annoyed that they had been pulled into yet another drama (it seemed inescapable nowadays) but dutifully got on with his things, directing his counterpart around the apartment, allowing the new Magnus to find his usual things in unfamiliar places.

In the meantime, Alec stood by his own counterpart and began to prepare him for their own trip. “The Institute is pretty busy on Saturdays so you’re going to have to keep out of the way. Keep your head down and I’ll try and get you through the back routes rather than through the main ops centre.”

“Ops centre?”

“Yes…is that a problem?”

“No.” Other Alec’s brow furrowed. “Just…my Institute, or any Institute, don’t have ops centres. And I don’t think our Institute has ever been busy, never mind on a Saturday. The most people it’s seen in the last decade at one time is probably about ten.”

“Ten?!”

“Yeah. It’s not that unusual, is it? London’s similar. I think Paris has a few more, but barely.”

“How many people are there in Idris?”

“Enough but our numbers are dwindling. And after this battle,” other Alec’s eyes suddenly moved to the middle-distance, looking forlorn, “we’ll be next to nothing.”

Alec blanched. “What’s your population size?”

“I don’t know the official records but I’d say about 350,000. After the war, if it goes on as it was, considerably smaller.”

“350- by the angel.”

“Why? How big is yours?”

“Probably near one and a half million. There are about 100 people in each major Institute. Sometimes more. Sometimes less.”

Other Alec covered his mouth and let out a breath. “Wow.” He didn’t seem to have anything more to say. Sadness suddenly overwhelmed Alec. To know that there were so few left… it hurt, even if it wasn’t his own dimension. With a population that small, they’d barely manage to get 30 people into each Institute, never mind a hundred. And that was presuming barely a few thousand people lived in Idris itself.

Trying to throw his mind off track, Alec focused on his surroundings again. Going into mission mode was a sure-fire way to distract himself from his thoughts. “What’s that on your hand?” He asked, noting the strange rune-looking scar on the back of his counterpart’s hand (they’d need to sort out this name situation at some point). Other Alec seemed surprised by the question but looked down at his hand with a sense of smugness, although there was definitely a bitterness residing behind the eyes somewhere. Alec would recognise that look anywhere. “Clary?” He guessed. After allowing himself a moment of shock, other Alec nodded his agreement. “Yeah. She made it. She made two, actually. This one is Alliance. It can only be used between a Downworlder-”

“And a Shadowhunter. My Clary made it too. But it looked different. I had warlock powers for a while.”

“Yeah, it blew my mind. Having Magnus’ powers-”

“You got his?”

“Um, yeah. Still do, I think.” Alec managed a small puff of smoke but nothing more. “Well, it’s fading, I’d guess. I’m not very good at controlling it anyway but it’s good when times get desperate.”

“I bet. I had to use a Warlock’s called Lorenzo. The guy hated me but he agreed to it. It felt…foreign. I lost control multiple, well, more than a few times. I got the hang of it in the end. For a good cause.”

“Magnus?” Other Alec questioned, almost shyly.

“Yeah, Magnus.” Alec smiled a private smile and twisted the ring on his finger. “So, what was the other rune? Was it sunlight?”

“No. Can she do that too? It was…well, a fearless rune.” Other Alec pulled up his sleeve, revealing a rune on his bicep, only a scar of it left. “It’s gone now but it’s-” Alec stopped and took in a breath. “It’s powerful.”

“What happened?” Alec asked. He’d recognise that look anywhere; something had happened, he was sure of it.

“I kissed Magnus in front of the Clave. In Idris. And almost told my parents I was gay, before Magnus made me pass out. I guess they know now anyway.” Other Alec sighed and brushed his fringe out of his face. “I don’t regret it,” he added. “It’s just…I don’t know what to think. It’s all so new and Magnus and I haven’t had a chance to talk about it and-”

Alec put a solidifying hand down on his counterpart’s shoulder. “It’ll work out, I promise you. You won’t regret it.”

“Well you would say that.”

“And I’d like to believe all versions of…well, us, can do it. You know, I did something similar. It wasn’t in Idris but Magnus-” Alec couldn’t continue for a moment, the memory bringing laughter to his lips. “Magnus crashed my wedding. And I kissed him in front of all the Clave representatives, my parents and the Institute. My parents were furious but I stood by my decision. And I didn’t regret it.” Though he would never say it, the other Alec looked comforted it by the thought, seeking out his Magnus on the other side of the room and watching him from afar.

“Magnus,” Alec called himself, needing his own Magnus’ attention for a moment. Both turned at the same time with equally amusing puzzlement. “We’re going to have to sort out this name situation soon. But besides that, we’re going now. I just wanted to say goodbye.”

“You have everything sorted?”

“I think so.” Magnus stepped up to Alec, loose smile on his lips. “Don’t get into trouble.”

“I won’t if I can help it.”

Magnus smiled and leant up, pressing a gentle kiss to Alec’s lips. “I mean it. Careful.”

“Always.” Out of the corner of his eye, Alec noticed his counterpart shuffle over to the other side of the room to stand by his own Magnus. There was an evident moment of hesitation before he pressed his lips to his Magnus’ cheeks and muttered a goodbye. It may not have been much but it was enough to light up his Magnus’ features. Magnus smiled; he recognised that look. He’d seen it in the mirror after dates, or when Alec would come up behind him and rest his neck in the crook of Magnus’ shoulder or just when he thought of the memories he’d gathered along the way with his Shadowhunter.

It was a look of love.

“You ready?” Alec called over. The other Alec nodded and strode over to his side. It was the most confident either of them had seen him. A mission mode, Magnus realised, helped every version of the Shadowhunter. “Portal, Magnus?”

“Of course.” With a click of his fingers, Magnus created a portal and beckoned them through, ignoring their counterparts’ gapes. “Good luck.” Silence washed over them as the portal shut. “You always seem to need it.”

~*~

They appeared in an alleyway a block from the Institute. Alec seamlessly stepped through but his counterpart seemed to have trouble, stumbling towards the nearby wall before awkwardly trying to right himself with the dignity he had left. Alec, embarrassed by what could only be described as a ‘very Alec’ move, ducked his head to the ground and let his counterpart collect himself.

“You ready?” He asked again, when both of them seemed to be standing steady.

“Yeah,” his counterpart breathed. “Think so. But…how did you do that? I mean, Magnus. He just…he created a portal with a flick of his wrist.”

“Yes? Is that not-”

“Well, it depends where you’re going, I guess, but portals need preparation and planning and thought and…well, yours seem a lot handier.”

“They really are. Magnus has taken me all over the world with them.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Before him, I’d only ever seen New York and Idris. Now…well, I don’t even know if I can name all the places I’ve been.”

“Magnus mentioned a holiday once.”

“He did?”

“Yeah. He wants to go to Europe. With me. I…delayed my answer, but I think I should.”

“You should. You’ll love it.”

“It’s just…well, Izzy said that the first time you go on holiday together is the, what did she call it? The make or break moment? I don’t…I don’t want it to be like that.”

“Don’t worry about it. Izzy reads too many mundane magazines.”

“Yours too?”

Alec laughed. “Of course. I’m pretty sure it’s an addiction.” Better than Yin Fen, at least. “But look, Magnus and I have fought…Angel, too many times to count. But we’ve always found our way back to each other. Always.” Silence permeated the air, giving the other Alec time to think, going through the pros and cons of all his options, treating it far more like a mission than a holiday. Slowly, they made their way out of the alleyway and onto the street but when they reached the junction, Alec stopped suddenly. Almost colliding into the back of him, the other Alec shouted “wha-”

“I forgot. If anyone asks who you are, we need a name.”

“Um…well. Gideon?”

“Sure. Easy to remember. Last name?”

“Lightwo…Lovelace?”

“Sure. I don’t know any Lovelaces. It should be fine. I think that’s everything sorted.”

“Let’s go then.”

They made progress quickly, making it to the front door in less than a few minutes, allowing Alec to canvass the route around the back of the Institute and through one of the destitute back entrances that weren’t used only because it was more practical to enter through the front door. For most teenagers sneaking in and out, the windows had always been the easiest option, seeing as they hadn’t been rusted shut a century ago.

“This building is…small,” Alec said carefully, as if he was trying to mitigate the complete and utter deadpan that was threatening to slip out.

“What? Is yours bigger?” Alec teased, putting a small smile on Gideon’s lips (as he now deemed him; it was good practice for him to recognise his fake name and was easier for everyone as a whole).

“Are you sure we aren’t going to get caught?” Gideon checked as Alec roughly jerked the door, trying to get it to open despite years of disuse.

“Well, if they do, I don’t think they can do much about it.”

“Why not?”

“Well, I don’t think they like prosecuting the Inquisitor. It looks bad for the Clave.”

“The what?!”

“The Inquisitor. Oh, don’t look so surprised. It was only a promotion.”

“From what?” Gideon asked, shock evident. “Have you always been in the Clave?”

“I was the Head of the New York Institute for a long time before this.”

“Really?” The awe was evident in Gideon’s blue eyes (and wasn’t Alec jealous of them). It was like Alec had suddenly been assured all his hopes and dreams. And maybe he had. If anyone told Alec as a child that he’d have made it, he wouldn’t have believed them in a million years. To be able to tell his younger self that it was possible was…well, it was a moment he’d savour.

“Yeah. Head of the Institute by 24. Inquisitor by 28. Youngest ever. And the first Inquisitor to be married to a Warlock, or any Downworlder for that matter. I’ve done more than I ever thought I could.”

“Wow. That’s just…wow.”

“You still have time,” Alec teased, finally shoving the door open and leading them inside, glad to see deserted hallways within the barracks. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, everyone would be in the ops room at this time. It wasn’t perfect. To get to the training room, they’d still have to pass over the ops room’s bridge but it was better than opening the front door, drawing unwanted attention to the new guest. If it looked like he’d been there all along, coming from his room, then it was unlikely anyone would question them.

Trying to pass for casual, Alec led them down the winding corridors, suppressing the urge to tell Gideon to stop staring because really, if the situation were reversed, he had no doubt he’d be doing the same. “Okay, this is the ops room. Keep your head down. And if you see Izzy, try and hide behind me.” Gideon nodded and followed Alec inside, almost thrown back by the hubbub of the building. His Institute had seen nothing even close to this. To know Alec had been the head of this, and then become one of the leading figures of the Clave (and still be as nice as he was) was the confidence booster he’d been waiting for all his life.

He’d seen in his future, in a sense, and he hadn’t been disappointed.

Alec held his head high, with an air only the highest members of the Clave possessed. Except Alec’s wasn’t cruel. There was no sneering or arrogant condescension, only a confidence in himself and what he was doing. Gideon wondered how many reforms they’d made to the Clave for Alec to be able to feel like that.

The thoughts about his own Clave were far from clear.

Gideon kept his head down and followed. Only a few people even bothered to look his way and there was one girl he had made eerily long eye contact with but she didn’t seem curious, only a little shocked. For what reason, Gideon wasn’t sure but he knew it didn’t matter when she turned back to her work, typing quickly on her keyboard with the determination of a Shadowhunter dealing the killing blow.

She reminded him of his sister in a way. If it wasn’t for the entirely different…well, race, they were very similar.

They made it through in no time, walking over the bridge through a parted sea of Shadowhunters, who all seemed to make away for Alec almost instinctively, never raising their heads from the work. The new Head of the Institute must have been a tough figure for them to be so dedicated. Or, Gideon figured, that getting on with things was probably best when put in front of the Inquisitor.

For a moment, he wondered how often Alec was around now that he was Inquisitor. If he was married to Magnus, surely he would want to be in New York. But the Inquisitor always lived in Idris so…

“Weapon of choice?” Alec asked, folding his arms. Gideon examined his surroundings, noting the evident use of the weapons around him, unlike the training room in his own Institute, before he raised an eyebrow. “What do you think?”

Alec smiled. “Bow?”

“Of course.”

Alec huffed a laugh and brought out two bows. “One of these has my customisations which will either help you or throw you off. The other is standard use.”

“Standard. Your customisations won’t fit me, yours will be designed for your height and build.”

“You’re only a little shorter than me.”

Gideon shrugged. “It’s odd,” he commented. “You’re about the same height as my Magnus and I’m about the same as yours.”

Alec thought for a moment before he smiled. “I guess you’re right. I would give you Magnus’ bow but he’s a heathen who apparently doesn’t touch them.”

“Why not?”

“Tanzania, 1642.”

“He’s that old?!”

Alec laughed. “Older. And never believe the age he tells you. I only managed it in a moment of…let’s say vulnerability.”

“And you’re not going to tell me?”

“I think it’s best you learn for yourself.” Gideon huffed but accepted the answer, finally taking the bow from Alec’s hands, watching with curiosity as Alec prepared his own bow.

“Is this going to be a competition?”

Alec’s eyes sparkled dangerously. “Why not?”

“Stop flirting with the new boy, big brother, you’re married.”

“I am not flirting,” Alec spluttered, putting his bow down again. Gideon blushed deeply, right from the roots of his hair to his neck. Flirting was not the kind of description you wanted to be affiliated with when talking to your clone.

“Suuuure. Now, who’s this?”

“Wait,” Gideon interrupted. “Did she say big brother?”

“Yeah. That’s Izzy. Is she…”

“But she’s…”

“Well yeah, she looks more like mum.”

“Mum looks like…that?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Wow.”

“I guess you could say that.”

“Okay, putting aside that frankly weird conversation, you want to introduce yourself.”

“I…I’m…I’m…” Gideon kept glancing at Alec out of the corner of his eyes. “Gideon Lovelace.”

“Gideon Lovelace? Are you sure of that? You don’t sound like it.”

“Yeah?”

“By the Angel,” Alec muttered, burying his hands in his face. Was this really what he’d been like at eighteen?

“You sure?”

“Yes.” Okay, so at least that time sounded more like a declarative. Just.

“Alec, want to explain why Gideon Lovelace is here?”

“Oh, he’s just come from Idris, I’m showing him around.”

“Oh, well that’s funny because I just ran his face through facial recognition and he seems to not exist.” Alec sighed. His sister was too clever for her own good.

“Okay, games up,” Alec announced, “this is Alexander Lightwood.”

“But you’re-”

“Exactly.”

“How?”

“I think it’s best we have this conversation sat down.” Alec sighed. “But look, I came here to see how we work as a team. Give us an hour? And then I can meet you in one of the offices?”

“Okay. But you better have a good explanation for this,” she warned.

“Don’t I always?” She sighed and fled.

“So that went well,” Gideon commented scathingly.

“We really need to brush up on your acting skills,” Alec sighed but picked his bow up again. “But that’s for later. We’ve only got an hour now so let’s get started.”

“We still doing a competition?”

“Sure. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

~*~

Magnus flipped through the pages of the spellbook almost urgently, glamoured eyes squinting down at the jaundiced pages. “Why do you hide them?” His counterpart asked, leaning against the doorframe being genuinely quite useless. This other version of him, Magnus realised, was quite a bit warier than he was, even of himself. He didn’t seem that inclined to help. At least, not yet.

“Hide what?” Magnus asked dismissively, still poring over the book.

“Your eyes.”

Magnus finally looked up, feeling a little insulted. He shrugged. “Well, I don’t know. I just…why don’t you hide yours?” It was a child’s argument, he knew, but it was better than dredging up old pains.

“Because I don’t want to have to.”

“Well glad to know you’re comfortable with them,” Magnus spat, more than a little bitter.

“Are you not?”

“Well the only person that hasn’t been revolted by the sight of them is Alexander. Barring other warlocks, of course.” Well, dredging it up it was.

“And you care what they think?”

“Oh, don’t give me that look.” Magnus rolled his eyes and focused back on his work. He didn’t want to be condescended by himself. He wanted to find an answer and send this copy of himself on his way. He didn’t want to dig up century-old insecurities. That was something to participate in with Alexander and only Alexander, preferably with a few drinks in his system.

“I just don’t understand why you’d hide them.”

“And I don’t understand why you’re happy to parade them so let’s just leave it at that, shall we?”

“Tou-chy,” his counterpart muttered.

Magnus rolled his eyes again but took in a deep breath and pushed his frustration away. “Are you going to keep standing there or do you want to come and help?” Well, maybe not totally.

Elongating himself from the position on the wall, his counterpart strode over (damn his long limbs; Magnus had been confident in his appearance for centuries but this man was undeniably more beautiful). Was that bad to say about yourself? Well, it was an insult as much as a compliment. “What do you want me to do?”

“Find anything on inter-dimensional portals or Edom in this.” Magnus used his magic to fling a book off the shelf and onto the portion of desk in front of…

“So, what should I call you?”

“Hm?” His counterpart hummed, throwing Magnus’ move in his face and flipping through the book without looking up.

“What do you want me to call you? Because I’m Magnus, so you need to be something else.”

“Was I ever this childish?” Magnus complained, bitterness ringing through his voice. Instead of letting Magnus argue his case, though, he sighed and added, “just call me M. It’s close enough.”

“Ugh, but only-”

“Emily called us that, I know, but it’ll do.”

“You knew Emily too?”

“Of course. We may not be the same, but the important people seem to be the same.”

Magnus smiled secretively. “You remember that time when-”

“She pushed us into the fountain?”

Magnus’ laugh was almost overbearing, the delight of shared memories like a blessing he never knew he could have. There had been so many people he’d lost, memories left just to him, but having himself here, there was someone to finally remember them with him. “Yes! Totally unjustified.”

“Totally! It was not my fault that her husband liked us. He was a total closet case!”

“Exactly!” Magnus laughed again, peals like the soft tones of a church bell. “God, I miss her.” M’s smile grew sad, just as Magnus’ did. “Yeah,” he breathed. “I miss them all.” Magnus looked up and caught his eye, both of them a little too soft around the edge. It was like an apology; Magnus might have found himself annoying, but there was something this opportunity presented, and maybe he’d have a little fun doing it.

“Okay, chop-chop, we have a job to do, and it’s not reminiscing.”

M rolled his eyes but smiled. “Guess we do.”


	2. Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The research begins and secrets are revealed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear God, I think this is the quickest I've ever uploaded! I've been a bit entrenched in writing this but it's been fun!
> 
> So, I just had a few notes, feel free to read :)
> 
> 1\. Thank you so much for the comments and kudos, it means a lot. Just a reminder that feedback is very, very welcome!  
> 2\. I thought I should probably mention that M is based quite heavily off the film Magnus (who is pretty atrocious, I've realised, after watching the film yesterday) because it creates a bigger dichotomy with TV Magnus, whilst book Magnus is kind of an in between of the both of them. Later chapters will probably make M lean a lot more towards book Magnus, though.  
> 3\. Some of the timing doesn't quite match up, I think. I read the first three books a couple of months ago and I've only just started the fourth so if anything doesn't add up, feel free for me to clarify where I've moved things.
> 
> That's all for today, thank for so much for reading. Enjoy!
> 
> -fouryearslater

Alec groaned; Gideon clearly wasn’t up to par. Whatever this other Institute had been doing, it was close to useless. “Who trained you?” Alec asked incredulously.

“Hodge. Why?”

Alec sighed. “Really? Because my Hodge trained me too…” He paused, trying to get his phrasing together. “Look, your aim is impeccable and you’re great with a bow but were you ever taught in anything else?”

“Hodge liked specialisation. And Jace. A lot,” Gideon said, in lieu of an answer.

“Everyone does but that doesn’t excuse them from allowing a Shadowhunter with your training. A demon could kill you an instant.”

“Thanks for the confidence,” Gideon muttered, frowning.

“I’m not trying to be mean, it’s just clear that you didn’t get the training you were supposed to be given.”

“Well, it’s not a surprise. I was banished from Idris, meaning I had no proper weapons master apart from a cowardly traitor who couldn’t use anything but a fucking shuriken.”

“Chakram,” Alec corrected impulsively, flushing with embarrassment as soon as the words passed his lips. “But okay, so your Hodge wasn’t like mine. That’s fine. But you’re going to need training. You’re strong, I can see it but you need refinement. Starting now.”

Gideon stared forlornly at his bow before chucking it to the side in a sight Alec hadn’t ever seen before. Alexander Lightwood disrespecting a bow, that was new. “Teach me.”

Time to get to work.

~*~

“I’ve got it! I’ve actually got it!” Magnus cried, desperately tapping at the book until M finally lifted his head from the page he was reading. “I’ve done it.”

“I heard you the first time.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, you’re only like that with people you adamantly dislike or are hiding something from.”

“It’s always lovely to know someone knows you inside and out,” M commented scathingly. “And maybe I do adamantly dislike you.”

“But then you’d dislike yourself,” Magnus commented, pouting childishly, leaning forward until M cracked a smile.

“The day I’m like you is the day I’m ending it all.”

“Just wait for that Alexander to crack down your walls. It’s so freeing!”

“Show off,” M muttered but stood beside Magnus, looking down at the open page with unhidden curiosity. “So what did you find?”

“Have you ever portaled to Edom?”

“No, can’t say I have. Why, have you?” It was supposed to be a joke but solemnity suddenly took over Magnus’ face.

“Yes. I did. Went to see dad. Was doing great, just so you know.”

“My life would be happier if I didn’t.”

“Well, anyway, I can portal to Edom. It’s horrible but not that difficult. Here, it gives you the usual steps but I’ve found the inter-dimensional component. It’s a chemical in the sand used to make the pentagram, Batrachotoxin. It can kill mundanes instantly with just a few grains and whilst Warlocks are more resistant to it, enough will cause serious injury. But, with the right magic channelled through it, it seems to develop unlikely characteristics. According to the book anyway. And it’s the only ingredient I can find in there that could be the catalyst we’re looking for. But the thing about it is that it has a highly complex structure. In its current form, it can be used to travel to Edom. Switch the bonds whilst still keeping its current form and voila! You have other dimensions.”

“But which ones?”

Magnus sighed. “That’s the problem. We’ve got the configuration for Edom, but I don’t know what it would be for any other dimension. And frankly, there are a lot more dimensions than there are configurations of the bonds so I’m presuming my hypothesis doesn’t hold up entirely. But it’s a start.”

M pondered for a moment before he started to pace around the room with long strides, hand brushing against the wooden desk as his eyes slid shut. Time passed as slowly as it did fast whilst Magnus watched his counterpart travel gracefully around his office, a low jealousy bubbling beneath his skin. There was something about M that was so much more…magical than him. There was something totally and entirely inhuman about him. Magnus would never have desired for it, having spent his whole life trying to present himself as human. But no matter the situational context that made Magnus glad for his traits, it was undeniably beautiful on M, who presented it with refined confidence and indescribable beauty.

“I have it!” He announced suddenly, just as Magnus was about to pipe in. “Let’s just test them.”

“That was…not the plan I expected.”

“What? You think I’m the boring one?”

“Kinda,” Magnus admitted.

M laughed, almost doubling over. “Ah, seems you don’t understand me quite as much as you thought.”

“Well I haven’t seen myself so miserable in a long time. It’s throwing me off my game.”

“I’m not miserable.”

“But you’re certainly quite grumpy.”

M scowled but gave in with, “well I was fighting in a war for my life a few hours ago so pardon me for my solemnity.” It was an effective silencer, awkwardness pending in the gap between them.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Now, back to my frankly brilliant idea.”

“It’s just the guess and test method.”

“Tried and tested to work.”

“As the longest solution to any possible problem.”

“But a solution nonetheless.”

Magnus sighed. “Even if we do find the right configuration, the risk of being stuck in the wrong dimension is too much.”

“Well if you haven’t noticed already, I’m already stuck in the wrong dimension!” M barked suddenly.

“And you’re lucky it’s this one!” Magnus shouted in response, suddenly fuming. The tension between them seemed to ebb and flow but it was no surprise that it had finally snapped. “I can’t guarantee what’s in the other dimensions. In this one, you’ve got a place in which Alec is a leading member of the Clave meaning you won’t get arrested on sight, and I am lucky enough to be a married man instead of a bitter old warlock who is unwilling to help you.”

“Not wanting to help doesn’t mean you’re old.”

“Oh, stop trying to defend yourself.”

“How’d you know I was talking about my-”

“It was obvious,” Magnus cut off. “I have a feeling you were a little less open about giving help to the Shadowhunters than I was.”

“What makes you think that?”

Silence fell for a moment, too long to be anything but purposeful. “Alec looked scared,” Magnus admitted.

M grit his teeth. “Of me? You think he’s scared of me?”

“No. No I don’t. But I think he’s scared of the choice he’s going to have to make. Between you and the Shadowhunters.”

“There’s no choice. And if there was one, it’s already been made”

“It really hasn’t. He may have kissed you in front of the Clave, but that doesn’t mean anything yet because they haven’t made him choose between them and you. And I promise you, they will. There’ll be a moment in his life when he’s forced to, there always is.”

They glared at each other, stuck in a stubborn standoff of wills. “This plan, it’s the only one we’ve got,” M deflected.

“So far. It’s not even been a day. We have time. Inter-dimension travel has another component we haven’t looked at yet either.”

"Time.”

“Exactly. There are too many variables in this that we haven’t thought about yet. At least give it a week. We can bring it up with our Alexanders and make a plan.”

“Fine,” M agreed, “but you’re getting us back.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

~*~

Alec slammed Gideon onto the ground again, a thick slap reverberating around the cavernous training room. “Ouch, that looked like it hurt,” someone commented from the side, causing Alec’s head to whip up.

“Jace,” Alec breathed, “you’re back.”

“I was never gone. The patrol lasted longer than expected.” Alec raised an eyebrow, waiting through the silence only broken by Gideon’s ragged breaths. “Fine! Clary had an exhibit opened today and I went to visit.”

“Did she-”

“No. I was glamoured.” Alec nodded, watching as Gideon picked himself up in the periphery of his vision, wiping his sweaty hands against his battle gear (Alec probably should have given him a change of clothes before they’d left the apartment, these ones still had bloodstains on).

“Good. Is everyone else alright?”

“Yeah. Izzy’s talking to them now. She’s doing great as the new head.”

“I know. I’m glad she got the role.”

“Thanks to you, you know.”

“Well-”

“Jace?” Gideon seemed to have finally started listening to the conversation, squinting like he was trying to pierce through a glamour.

“Yes? And you are?” Jace asked, scrunching his face in a way that would have made Alec swoon no more than a few years ago. As it made Gideon. Oh dear.

“I- I’m Gideon Lovelace. I’ve been sent from Idris to train with Alec.”

“With Alec? They chose the Inquisitor to train you? No offence Alec, but why you?”

“Oh…um…well…I…”

“Izzy knows, Jace might as well,” Alec interrupted with a sigh. “Tell Izzy to bring you to us in half an hour, she knows what’s happening.”

Jace frowned. “And you’re not telling me now because…?”

“This is a conversation best said sitting down. And, I’ve got a Shadowhunter to train.”

“Okay, I guess? I’ll see you in half an hour then,” Jace said reluctantly, confusion palpable. Alec nodded and watched as Jace strode out of the room, sending puzzled looks in his wake.

“Seriously, did no one teach you undercover work? Wait, no, don’t answer that, of course they didn’t.”

“You do…undercover work?”

“Yeah, sometimes. Well, not anymore, but that’s beside the point. Why?”

“I didn’t think Shadowhunters did undercover work.”

“It’s useful. If they don’t, it’s probably just that they haven’t told you. The Clave’s secrecy built up for a reason.”

“Huh.”

“Now, back to training. These interruptions are slowing us down.”

Gideon groaned. “Do we have to?”

“Yes.” Alec strode to one side of the room and picked two training sticks off the wall, throwing one at Gideon. “Your left side is too open. I want you to use the stick to protect it. Act like it’s your weak spot. One shot at it and you die. If I hit anywhere else, ignore it. Just protect your side.”

Gideon nodded and readied himself. “Shift your leg outwards, that position will unbalance you,” Alec ordered, mission-mode falling back over him. He’d never instructed anyone before, not properly anyway (not since Clary), but there was an element within him that revelled in it. The order of it, the power, it was like a rush. And maybe it wasn’t all that fair that most of his fighting partners were better in hand to hand combat than he was; the power most likely came because he was finally beating someone.

Gideon shifted his leg outward, the slight squeak of his shoes loud in the looming space. The grey room was filled with angelic light, giving it a blue shade that Gideon didn’t think he’d ever see in his own old-fashioned Institute, lit by candlelight and Victorian bulbs. His eyes darted around for spaces to move, wary of the large columns towering towards the archaic ceiling, just one of the pieces of evidence that this was the same destitute church that he’d grown up in.

Alec stood opposite him, face blank and position perfect. “You ready?” He called. Gideon nodded, thankful to not be taken by surprise. He knew eventually that he’d have to be broken out of his comfort zone but for now, the familiarity was welcoming. Little more than a few hours, he’d been fighting in a war. Now, he was finally getting the training he needed for a war in which he couldn’t just stand on a hill and fire arrows at the enemy from afar. For a war in which he was in the midst of the action, desperately using magic he didn’t understand to throw the demons off him whilst using his bow whenever he was given the space.

Alec threw himself at Gideon, sticks slamming together with a resounding clack. From there it was a flurry of limbs that Gideon could barely keep up with. Hits whacked his front but his left side remained protected. “Any hit you now get is also a fatal hit,” Alec called out suddenly, forcing Gideon to move the stick around, desperately flinging himself across the room to escape Alec’s whirlwind of moves. He almost laughed; he was fighting himself and losing miserably. Ends up, practice really did make perfect.

It was barely two minutes before Gideon was sprawled across the slate floor, stick held above him like a sword ready to be driven through his chest. “Good,” Alec called. “We need to practice your speed but the moves are there. The training’s there, at least, it’s just a matter of practice and fixing habitual errors.”

“Really?” Gideon asked through a heaving breath. “Because I’m pretty sure I just horrifically embarrassed myself.”

“Not at all. I have a decade of training on you and have fought in a lot more wars. For your age and position, you’re doing fine.” Gideon smiled a little. “Ready to go again?”

Gideon nodded. “Let’s go.”

~*~

Gideon wiped the sweat off his brow, panting through desperate lungs. “That was…a lot.” Alec laughed, stretching through the cool-down period. “It doesn’t hurt as much…eventually. Did they really only train you properly with a bow?”

Gideon shrugged. “It was my speciality. I got a bow. Izzy got her whip. And Jace had…well, Jace is good at everything.”

“Not everything. He’s just been trained in everything, unlike you and Izzy.” Alec sighed. “Don’t be put down by people’s sycophantic…” Alec dug for words, “appraisals of Jace. They know how skilled he is because of Valentine so they’re just trying to use him. You don’t need to be on par with him, you have your own skills.” Gideon didn’t answer but the glint in his eyes was answer enough. A small weight fell off Alec’s chest; all the things he wished he could say to himself a decade ago were slowly coming out into the open.

At least this version of himself, he thought suddenly, had found Magnus a lot earlier. Hopefully, it’d save him a lot of later heartache.

“Okay, let’s go talk to Izzy and Jace, we need to explain this.”

“Should they really know?”

“If it was me who came to your Institute, would you tell them?”

“Probably.”

“Exactly.”

They wound their way through the Institute, avoiding common areas and keeping to the shadows. The block of offices was a sub-sect of the Institute tucked in the back-left corner of the building, filled with homogenous spaces separate from the Head of the Institute’s office which resided just a corridor down from the ops room. It was mostly for visiting envoys of the Clave (including Alec now), giving them a place to fill in paperwork and report back the Clave in peace.

Alec checked the time and knew that they would be the last ones there so he investigated every room until he found a door cracked open and soft voices coming from inside.

“Just tell me what’s going on, Izzy.”

“Not yet. Just wait until they get h- just on time, big brother!”

“Thanks for waiting,” Alec replied diplomatically. The practice was coming to something, he guessed.

“So, what’s all this about?” Jace interrogated quickly, standing imposingly in front of the desk as Alec sat down behind it. Gideon cowered in the corner, although it wasn’t obvious apart from the slight hunch in his shoulders. Isabelle was polite enough to sit in one of the chairs in opposite the desk, folding her legs on top of each other as she stared disinterestedly at the wood-panelled walls.

“Sit down,” Alec ordered. Now wasn’t the time for Jace to try and one-up him. He had to stay in control of this, or else his siblings would inevitably do something stupid and reckless. Well, maybe Izzy wouldn’t, her leadership role had taught her restraint. Some, anyway. Jace, however, would always remain the reckless soldier and without Clary to hold him back, he was an even larger force to fight.

Eventually Jace did sit down, making his reluctance clear. “Why’s the Gideon guy here, anyway?”

“He’s a part of this. There’s been…” Alec’s eyes fell to Gideon, who’d placed himself in one of the bay windows, folding himself up like an envelope and letting the sunshine sit on his pale features. He was like silver in the afternoon sun, trying to hide from people whilst still drawn out of the shadows. “A problem.”

“What kind of problem?” Jace asked. Izzy, thankfully, remained silent.

“A portal opened up from another dimension and, well, two people came through it. I don’t know what else yet but those two people came from a battlefield so some demons likely got through too, though we don’t know how many. This,” Alec continued, motioning to the boy in the window, “is Alexander Lightwood. Me. But eighteen-years-old and from another dimension. He came through with Magnus, his Magnus. He was injured so they returned to their apartment only to find me and Magnus already there. Magnus and his counterpart are currently working on a way back, using Magnus’ knowledge of portals to Edom. I’ve been training with Gideon in case we end up having to face the demons that came through.”

“How was this portal made?” Izzy asked.

“Valentine,” Gideon piped up from his spot, his fingers tapping gently against his knee. He was nervous, Alec realised. For a moment, he wondered about Alec’s dynamic with his siblings in his own dimension, whether their relationship was fragile or he was just scared about these people he didn’t recognise but felt he should know. “He used something to destroy the demon towers in Alicante. This whole thing, it couldn’t have been anyone but him.”

“It could have been Jonathon. He’s more likely to have the power to do it,” Jace inputted. “So, Valentine and Jonathon are both alive in your dimension?” Jace asked Gideon curiously, standing up so he could face him. Gideon seemed to retreat into himself but continued to talk.

“Valentine is, yes. I was portaled out of the war against him. He’d given us an ultimatum, either the Clave gave in and let him become Consul under his rule or he’d destroy the entire city. Your sister made a rune that-”

“Wait, wait, wait. Hold up. My sister?”

“Yeah, Clary.”

“Oh god. Alec, did you not give him a history lesson?”

“Well I didn’t know he’d be that behind!”

“What?” Gideon looked mildly offended.

“Boys, stop it,” Isabelle interrupted. “Gideon, is that what we’re calling you?” He nodded. “Okay, I think we need to run through a few things. Clary and Jace aren’t siblings. Clary’s actual brother is a guy called Jonathon. You…you might know him by Sebastian?”

“Verlac?”

“Yes! That’s Clary’s actual brother. Valentine raised Jace but he wasn’t his father. He injected Jace with angel blood, so he has the same increase in angel blood as Clary. Jonathon, though, was injected with demon blood and was sent to live in Edom with Lilith, the Queen of Hell, once he was a teenager, I think. I’m not sure if it’ll be the same where you’re from but I can assure you, Jace and Clary aren’t siblings.” Izzy smiled gently, enough to crack Gideon’s nervous exterior and let him relax against the wall. No doubt the familiarity was starting to seep through. This was his sister, whether she looked different or not.

“Where was Valentine when you were taken from the battle? How would he have opened the portal?” Jace asked, raking his hair out of his face.

“He was…he was going to raise the Angel!”

“It makes sense,” Alec intervened at Jace’s dubious look. “Clary may not have been the one to use the wish in his dimension. If it was Valentine-”

“He would have used it to kill the demons, not create an inter-dimensional portal.”

“It could have been a side effect,” Alec argued.

“I think it was more likely Jonathon. He could travel to Edom. He probably understood inter-dimensional travel. All demons are capable of it, so why not him?”

“But why me then? I didn’t see Sebastian,” Gideon said.

“He’s good at hiding. Or he was glamoured.”

“Glamoured? I would have seen right through it.”

“He could have easily changed his appearance.”

“How would he do that without a warlock? Do you think he’s using one?”

“No, he could use the rune.”

“What rune?”

“Okay, so there seem to be more differences than I thought,” Jace gave in, “but that doesn’t disprove my theory.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Alec said. “Right now, we need any ideas we can get.”

“Still doesn’t answer why it would be me and Magnus. Sebastian doesn’t even know Magnus and he barely knows me. The only person he seemed to like was Clary.”

“It’s true. It’s odd that it was so specific. Are you sure no one else came through?”

“I- I can’t feel Jace. My Jace.” Gideon pulled up his shirt almost shyly. His parabatai rune was still there but it was a dull grey instead of its usual strong black. “I wouldn’t know about anyone else.”

“By the Angel,” Izzy gasped. “Are you okay? When Alec couldn’t feel Jace, it was…”

“Izzy,” Alec cut off.

“No. You remember what it’s like. He shouldn’t be made to suffer like that.”

“It’s alright,” Gideon assured, “the rune is still there. It’s just…I can’t really feel anything through it. He’s there. Sort of. I just can’t reach out to him.”

“Would there be a way to use it to track his Jace?” Izzy mused aloud. “Then there’d be an easy compass back to his own dimension.”

“I’ll definitely bring it up with Magnus if it’s needed.”

“So,” Jace interrupted, eyes locked on Gideon. “Alec is training you?”

“Yeah?”

“How about training with someone who’s an actual instructor?”

“You are not an instructor, Jace,” Alec said.

“I’m training Simon!”

“Exactly. Simon.”

“Training Simon? Why are you training him?”

“He wanted to be trained,” Jace said with a shrug. “And Izzy thinks he should be.”

“And you care because…?”

“Hey!” Izzy shouted.

“Enough,” Alec interrupted. “I’m going to assume you’re not close with your Simon?”

“No? He’s just Clary’s friend.”

“Oh, he is in for a treat,” Jace said with a shit-eating grin. “Izzy, why don’t you tell him.”

“Izzy-” Alec tried to intervene.

“Simon is my boyfriend, so you should probably get to know him.”

Gideon gaped. “But-”

“What? You’re not going to say it’s because he’s a Downworlder, are you? Because you have Magnus and-”

“I don’t have Magnus. He’s just…he’s a…friend.”

“Friend?” Alec interrupted, joining the chaos. “He’s not just-”

“Oh my god, Alec, is every form of you a hypocrite like this?”

“I am not-!”

“Guys!” Jace shouted. The room stopped. Jace never shouted. Mind, that was mostly because he was usually the person being shouted at, but still. This was…unusual. “Stop arguing. This is not important.”

“I’m still confused. You said you kissed Magnus in front of the Clave!” Alec argued anyway.

“I did. That doesn’t mean he’s mine or anything, though.”

“Oh my god, you are being dense. Were you two not together before that?”

“Well, no.”

“Magnus said you’d been together for a year.”

“Then he and I have different ideas of being together.”

“Okay, this is not the time,” Alec capitulated, pushing down the burning rage, “but we are discussing this later. Anyway, you two,” he said, spinning to face Izzy and Jace, mission-mode in place, “can you keep an eye out for influxes of demons? It may lead us to the remains of the portal. If the portal’s still open, report immediately. We have two people to return and it will mean there are a lot more demons than we first bartered for.” The two soldiers nodded their assent and left without a word.

Alec took a deep breath, walking back around the table and falling into the large office chair. Heaving out a sigh, he watched Gideon from across the room. The thick red drapes around the window were now hanging loose; someone must have grabbed them in the…whatever that was. Alec winced at his own thoughts. He never lost his temper like that, and Jace never had to restrain him. It was like someone had flipped a switch, leaving him with violent whiplash.

Maybe meeting himself hadn’t been such a great idea, after all.

“Let’s get back to the apartment,” Alec said, pushing his hair out of his face as he tried to gather his wits. Gideon nodded and moved from his place in the window, footsteps loud on the old, wooden floorboards. “And we are talking about this again.”

~*~

“You want us to what?”

“It’s just some inter-dimensional travel,” M explained, “nothing to worry about.”

“That is everything to worry about,” Alec argued. “We’re not doing this.”

“You have no right to stop me, Shadowhunter, I’m not under your jurisdiction.”

“No, you’re not, but I agreed to help you and part of that is stopping you from doing something stupid because believe it or not, I don’t want you to die, if not for your sake then Gideon’s.”

“I’m not going to die.”

“You might! We don’t know what these other dimensions are. For all we know, just stepping foot in one might kill you. Think, if Gideon was sent to a realm like Edom, he’d die instantly.”

“Why?”

“He has angel blood!”

“You can still go to Edom with angel blood.”

Alec sighed. “Look, you couldn’t go to our Edom with angel blood and no matter what this Edom you know is like, there are still many dimensions where both of you would die instantly.”

“Couldn’t?” Gideon piped up; it almost surprised Alec, Gideon was forensic to notice something as slight as that.

“Yes. We destroyed Edom with Heavenly Fire. Or, well, Izzy did.”

“Really? The whole realm?”

“Yes.” Gideon gaped again, faced by the sheer power that was the copy of his family. To know they could do something so…extreme, felt almost daunting in the face of his own future. There was nothing assuring him that his future would be the same as this other Alec’s but knowing that there was a possibility he’d have to face something like that…it terrified him.

“How did you do it?”

“It’s a long story but the short version is that Izzy could produce heavenly fire after she got hit by shrapnel from a sword. She went to Edom to save Magnus, the rest of us followed. Lilith was trying to kill Magnus so we killed her but the heavenly fire went out of control, destroying Edom.”

“Note to self,” Magnus added, winking at his counterpart, “don’t piss off Lilith.”

“Why were you in Edom?” M asked.

“Oh, you know, banished dad, saved the world, got trapped. The usual.”

“Banished him?” M replied, hope evident.

“Yup. He’s stuck in limbo. Though, admittedly, yours might not be. I wonder how this whole thing works. Do we have the same dad or are there multiple Asmodeuses? How does the whole inter-dimensional family tree affect all of this?”

“Not important right now,” Alec intervened.

“It might be,” Magnus muttered but Alec battled onwards.

“What we need to be talking about is why M wants us to go on some inter-dimensional vacation.”

“Well, our research hit a bit of a dead-end,” Magnus admitted, fiddling with a strand of loose hair on his head.

“What did you find?”

“There’s a chemical component of the salt used to make the pentagram to Edom that I think can be manipulated to change the destination of the portal. However, there’s no way of getting the right one without testing it. And, we’ve figured out that there may be an issue with time. I wrote to a Seelie client. He says that inter-dimensional travel is space and time specific. But I don’t know what component could alter that. The portals to Edom were always chronological. I have no reference for changing that. It may just be a matter that without the component, time won’t matter and everything will keep going forward but there’s just as big a chance that without the right component, they could be flung far into their future or past.”

“So, basically, we’ve got a lot of problems.”

“Pretty much.”

“I still don’t see why we shouldn’t just try a few times.”

“Look, M, we’ll keep it as a final solution but give us time. We’ve only been at this for a day.”

“Exactly what I said!” Magnus shouted. Alec smiled at his husband but shook it off and continued (there would be time to be soppy later).

“For now, let’s just keep researching. I have Jace and Izzy looking into demonic activity. Magnus, if you can keep up correspondence with the Seelies, it’d be a huge help. M, help Magnus. And Gideon, we need to continue your training tomorrow.”

“Are we dismissed now?” M teased, voice deadpan.

“You are. You guys can share the spare bedroom,” Alec gave Gideon a pointed look, “and all the other rooms but ours are free for you to use.” Alec turned to Magnus. “Thai?”

“Yes,” Magnus groaned, throwing his head back. “It’s like you can read my mind.”

“Let’s go then.” Alec turned back to M and Gideon. “We’re going out to eat. If there’s anything you want, just look in the fridge. Or,” he directed at M, “just summon it. Bye.” Magnus waved from behind Alec before pulling him towards the door, leaving M and Gideon to themselves.

“So…” M drew out the vowel, lips uncomfortably pouted as Gideon started to explore the space, without the lingering stares of their counterparts. “Do I call you Alexander or Gideon now?”

“Alexander. We’re alone now.”

“Good. It suits you so much better. You know I knew the actual Gideon Lightwood. Horrible man.”

Gideon raised an eyebrow. “Thanks,” he deadpanned.

“Of course you’re not like that. You are the best of all the Lightwoods.” Gideon blushed but smiled through it, sitting down on one of Magnus’ leather couches with delicate care, as if he was scared to touch the no doubt expensive furnishings, especially in his still blood-encrusted battle gear. “But aside from that, I wanted to ask how you were doing.” M’s eyes went soft as he approached Gideon, falling to his knees in front of him and resting his hand on Gideon’s thighs, avoiding the patches of blood with a grimace. “And I mean it. How are you?”

“It’s…it’s a lot. But I guess it is for both of us. Right?”

“Of course, Alexander. I may have lived a long time but I’ve never done anything like this before.” Gideon withheld a smile; he liked the idea that he might be the first person that Magnus did something with. It didn’t happen often.

“How old are you anyway?” Gideon asked, thinking back to Alec’s earlier comments.

“A man never tells his age,” M replied with a wink. “Now, you’re deflecting. Tell me what’s going on, Alexander.”

“I’m fine.” We’re not quite there yet, he wanted to say. You seem to think we’ve been dating for a year and I don’t feel like we’ve been dating at all. I don’t think we can quite do this open feeling sort of thing. Not yet.

“Don’t shut yourself away,” M pleaded, although his face barely changed. “I know this is all so new but I want to be open.”

“Then be open,” Gideon argued childishly. “I want to know how you’re feeling.”

“Fine,” M agreed. “I’m scared that we won’t get back. Sad that we got dragged into this. Worried about what’s happening back in our dimension whilst we’re safe here. Mourning for all the people we’ve already lost. The people we’re losing right now.”

“But they said they might be able to change time. We might be able to return to the moment we left.”

“I don’t know, Alexander,” M sighed. “I don’t know anything to do with time travel. It’s not possible for warlocks. It’s not possible for anyone. And I don’t know whether we can travel back, or if we can only travel forward. Travelling forward in time is possible, even in a subtle way, already. Travelling back, though. I don’t think so.”

“Why not?”

“Magic has been around for so long now that I doubt it wouldn’t have figured out something so fundamental already. But maybe I’m wrong. We’ll have to wait and see.”

“Yeah…then, thanks for sharing, I guess,” Gideon tried awkwardly. He hadn’t ever really done this before, apart from with Isabelle, and even that wasn’t really ‘opening up’ as much as it was ‘here’s a few of my problems, please help me sort them out’. Gideon was nothing if not practical. Any thoughts towards, well, emotions happened inside with the only visible symptom being what Izzy called his brooding face. Gideon always argued that it didn’t exist, but even he knew it did.

“It’s my pleasure. We’re in this together, Alexander.” M used his name like it was a prayer, repeating it over and over like it might finally be heard. “And on that note, I thought it was time I asked you on another date.”

“Another date? But-” Gideon said with wide eyes, the _we’re in another dimension_ left unsaid.

“Yes, a date. I may have been a little bitter that you refused to acknowledge our relationship but I had an idea. You don’t want to acknowledge this because of the consequences of it, on your job, your family, all of it. But, we’re in a different dimension now, one in which we, in loose terms, have already happened. We can do what we want freely and without consequences. We can just be…us.” M looked so hopefully, cat eyes glistening delicately in Magnus’ lights. Gideon could lose himself in them all day, but he couldn’t, not now, not when he had something to say.

“Yeah. That sounds…Okay, yeah, sure. Inter-dimensional dating. Sounds fun.” No strings, no attachments, just them. They could try it and if it all spiralled downwards (as Gideon thought about far too much) then they’d go back to their dimension and go separate ways, with no one any the wiser. But for now, M’s smile was contagious, spreading across Gideon’s lips without him even realising it. Thoughts weren’t important in this moment. Although… “But right now, I’m hungry, so I’m going to have a look in the fridge.” Gideon fled, making M pull his hands from his thighs, leaving him crouched on the floor alone. Longingly, M’s eyes followed Gideon until he was out of sight, a small “I don’t understand how you do this to me, Alexander,” escaping his lips.


	3. You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, here are just a few starting notes.
> 
> 1) I changed something in the last chapter that suggested it was M and Gideon's first date. It wasn't; that's canon and in 'The Course of True Love (and First Dates)'.  
> 2) When I use 'inter-dimensional' I also mean 'inter-universal'. I made them one and the same which probably isn't entirely canon but is both convenient and realistic in my mind.  
> 3) Also, I've officially FINISHED THE MORTAL INSTRUMENTS SERIES AGAIN! Don't know why I'm so excited about that but I'm happy to have done it. I forgot how good the last book is (more so than the first five, although I do have a soft spot for book 2). But, saying that, I have learnt there is now some canon misinformation in this, especially in regards to Edom, which only comes into the books in book 6. However, for the most part, any mistakes can be put aside for Gideon not knowing about any of it yet. Although, I would warn you not to take the details in this as fact. They really aren't. But I'm trying my best.
> 
> Sorry, that was longer than usual but either way, enjoy the chapter! I'm happy with this one :)
> 
> -fouryearslater

The Thai restaurant in Greenpoint, just two blocks from Magnus’ apartment, was one of Alec’s favourite restaurants and therefore, by default, one of Magnus’ too. Sandwiched between a bodega and a vinyl-record store, it was the perfect mix of quaint and decadent to suit both of their tastes. The authentic cuisine made Magnus think of times long gone, whilst the small booth in the corner they frequented reminded Alec of too many moments to count. This restaurant was a piece of their history now, even with its slightly peeling wallpaper and overzealous oriental theme.

Alec had bustled himself into the corner of his booth seat, knees brushing against Magnus’ under the chipped wooden table. He’d turned to watch the street outside through the red-curtained windows. Magnus was only staring at him, though, eyebrows slightly scrunched as he thought over the words he wanted to say.

“How are you?”

“Hm?” Alec broke from his reverie and turned back to Magnus, ignoring the small band of teenagers outside that he’d been watching pass. “What did you say?”

“I asked you how you were.”

“I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?”

Magnus sighed. “Well, for starters, in the last twenty-four hours, we’ve learnt about inter-dimensional travel, met our inter-dimensional counterparts, learnt that a bunch of demons have come through said inter-dimensional portal etcetera…”

“That’s a lot of inter-dimensional things.”

“Well, it has been a curious twenty-four hours, hasn’t it?”

It was Alec’s turn to sigh, slouching down in his seat like it could help him hide from his problems. Since meeting Magnus, he’d learnt to face them head-on, with his head held high in a way that he’d never thought possible before. But, sometimes, it was just too easy to revert to old habits. “It has. But really, I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

“Are you okay?”

Magnus shrugged. Their communication was getting a lot better but maybe they still had some work to do. “I’m not fine,” Magnus blurted, “and neither are you.”

Magnus knew Alec too well. “No, I’m not.”

“Did you know that M is actually a horrible person,” Magnus suddenly deflected, feeling a little too vulnerable. “Was I ever that horrible? I hope not. That man has a superiority complex the size of the universe.”

“Are you saying you don’t?”

“I have an ego, Alexander, not a superiority complex.”

“I’m teasing, you know that. And you don’t have an ego. You have confidence.”

“Well, thank you for your faith. But still, M is just so…”

“Irritating?”

“Yes!” Magnus breathed. “How’s Gideon?”

“He’s okay. Clearly uncomfortable. I’m a bit scared for him, really. I think we’re a lot more…progressive, that his dimension was. He’s confused and he doesn’t know what to do about it. And then adding M onto the pile, he’s lost.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t mean he’s not irritating, though. Him refusing to acknowledge his and M’s relationship is getting under my skin.”

“It doesn’t make sense. What have they been doing to make one of them think they’ve been dating for a year and the other not at all?”

“I mean, Gideon’s pretty new out of the closet so I’m assuming this is his first relationship. He doesn’t know what’s going on.”

“I was your first relationship but you didn’t deny that we had one at all.” The waitress interrupted for a moment, taking their usual orders before scurrying off, a wild whirlwind of black hair flying behind her.

“What were we saying?”

“That first relationships don’t mean you’re completely blind.”

“Oh, yeah, but he’s young. Younger than I was. And I’d seen others in relationships. He looks like everything’s new to him. I can’t imagine what his life has been like. You know I was training him this morning?”

“Yeah?”

“He doesn’t know half the basics. He’s strong and great with a bow but his hand-to-hand combat skills are atrocious and his work with a sword is average at best. For someone who grew up with a specialist trainer who only had three pupils, he should be a lot more advanced than he is.”

“Did he say why?”

“Jace, mostly, which isn’t a surprise. He’s a prodigy in every dimension apparently.”

“Should have guessed. But you’ll help him?”

“Of course.”

“You sound sure. If I have to teach M anything, I’m liable to a physical showdown.”

“Now that, I’d like to see,” Alec flirted, sipping at a drink that they’d gotten as soon as they’d sat down. Non-alcoholic; he didn’t even try to impress Magnus with that anymore, he didn’t need to.

“Of course you would. But seriously, it’s impressive that you’re doing this.”

“Well, it’s our job to help, isn’t it?”

“I guess. Then again, is this going to interfere with your role as Inquisitor? Do you have to report this or are you high enough up to gloss over it?”

“I’m not sure, but I don’t think I’ll put it down in writing until we’ve looked into it further. The Clave may be getting better but inter-dimensional portals will spook them back into old ways.”

“Most likely. But I must ask, what if you get caught?”

“Well, it won’t be the first time.”

~*~

The next morning, Alec stumbled out of his bed, stretching his arms up and outwards, clicking his back as he went. Magnus lay in bed, seated against the headboard, flicking through another spellbook, looking for more information on Edom. “It’s early, you really don’t have to be doing that yet.”

“The quicker this is, the better.”

Alec laughed. “Do you really hate M that much?”

Magnus rolled his eyes but there was a tension underneath that meant he wasn’t as comfortable as he pretended to be. “I don’t hate M. And it’s just that I want to…get past this. We only just finished with the last drama.”

Alec sighed and his eyes softened; with slow, steady treads he padded back to Magnus’ side and pressed his lips to Magnus’ hair. “There will always be a drama so let’s make the most of it.”

Magnus huffed but smiled through it as he placed his book down and pulled himself out of the red silk sheets of his bed. “What time is it?” He asked. Alec grabbed his phone off his side of the bed and squinted at the bright light. “Eight twenty. I’ve got forty minutes.”

“Better hurry then. I’ll get breakfast.” Alec smiled and pressed another kiss to Magnus’ head before hurrying to the bathroom to shower. Alec was one of those people that, even if he was about to train, showered every morning. There was always such a horrible feeling under his skin if he didn’t.

Magnus strode out into the living room, surprised to see Gideon already there, perusing his way through a fantasy novel with more than a little confusion. “Mundanes are weird,” he commented when he finally saw Magnus, placing the book on the coffee table.

“You’re up early,” Magnus said in a complete non-sequitur. Trying to explain mundane culture to an uneducated Nephilim was as boring as it was tedious. Gideon just shrugged as he awkwardly made it look like he was trying to sit on as little of the sofa as he possibly could. He still had his battle gear on, though not the full assemble, only the t-shirt he’d been wearing beneath with the bulky combat trousers. His feet were bare, an almost uncomfortable contrast to the blood-encrusted black getup.

“We need to get you clothes,” Magnus said before Gideon could speak. “Alec!” Magnus shouted.

“Yeah?” Alec shouted back, voice echoing around the apartment.

“Can Gideon borrow some of your clothes?”

“He won’t fit in mine. Give him yours. M will probably have to wear mine.” Gideon, if only for just a moment, looked utterly and impossibly afraid.

“Mine it is then,” Magnus said with a smile before Gideon could refute. “Follow me. Then I’ll do breakfast. Where’s M?”

“Asleep.”

“Ah, of course. I used to be a late sleeper.”

“And you’re not now because…?”

“Ugh, you Nephilim do like mornings.” Magnus strode back into the bedroom, not minding the partly opened bathroom door (whilst Gideon blushed and averted his eyes, even though he couldn’t see a thing through it). “So, what do you like to wear?”

Gideon looked down at himself. “I don’t know.”

“Good, just the answer I was looking for.”

“Magnus,” Alec warned from the bathroom, still out of sight, though the was still the gentle sound of water running. “Don’t be mean. You own black. Just give him black.”

“But that’s so boring!”

“Magnus.”

“Fine! Black it is. But we must put something with it for those eyes. Which, I must add, are utterly beautiful.”

“Magnus! Stop flirting with my inter-dimensional clone!”

“Is that what I am now?” Gideon muttered, trying to hide his vicious blush behind a curtain of black hair.

Magnus decided not to answer either of them, rummaging through his closet until he found a black silk shirt and some skinny jeans - also black, of course. Gideon seemed pleased that it wasn’t that much, even if the idea of wearing silk was entirely foreign and the jeans looked like they were definitely a size or two smaller than he would have liked. Of course, he shouldn’t have held out hope. This was Magnus, after all.

“Aha!” Magnus called, tugging out the finale to the outfit. It was nothing much. To most mundanes, it wouldn’t have been that exciting. But to Gideon, it was probably the most colour he’d been asked to wear in, well, ever. It was a jumper in a rich dark blue with a folded collar that looked way too stylish to match Gideon’s…everything. “The designer, who I met in Paris a few years back, called it a Maddie jumper and it’ll look perfect on you.”

“We’re going to be training!” Alec reminded, the water finally shutting off. Gideon was very thankful to hear the door shut, though Alec’s voice was far more muffled when he next spoke. “He doesn’t need to look stylish.”

“He needs something to wear before and after and this is just the thing. He can borrow my work out clothes for everything else.” Gideon looked worried for a moment. “Don’t worry, they’re normal. Like, Alec normal. It’s fine.” Gideon reluctantly took the clothes out of Magnus’ and scurried off to his own room, presumably to change.

The door to the bathroom cracked open again. “You’re scaring him,” Alec chastised.

“I know!”

Alec just sighed.

~*~

M woke up to the smell of pancakes, bananas and just a hint of burnt berries. Rubbing his eyes, he slowly peeled himself upwards, noting that the room was both dark and empty. The place where Gideon had slept last night was carefully made, showing no mark that he’d slept there apart from a small dent on the corner of the pillow. Clearly, the awkwardness had lasted through the night. Gideon had been visibly uncomfortable last night, tucking himself on the edge of the bed, as far from M as he could possibly be, curled into foetal position like a child.

It sometimes scared M how young Gideon looked. Was.

Turning the light on, he suddenly felt appraisal for the royal blue bedding. The room as a whole was intricately designed with glittering white wallpapers with a faint diamond-like sheen to it and a fluffy carpet that could only be kept so pristine by magic. The window on one side had been curtained by a deep blue fabric that shone slightly under the lamplight. The room, even without magical influence, was almost enchanting. M had always been indecisive in the look of his apartment, switching it at will from day to day. Magnus, on the other hand, seemed to have settled in his style, perfecting it as he went rather than changing it the moment he saw an error.

Sighing, M finally stood up, pulling the undergarments of yesterday’s battle armour on just as there was a hasty knock on the door. “Hey, M. Breakfast is ready. And also, I have clothes for you, if you want. They’re mine so they’re not that interesting but they’ll fit you.” Alec’s voice was steady, steadier than Gideon’s had ever been. It was clearer than ever that Alexander Lightwood, in whatever dimension, only needed the confidence to build himself up; he wouldn’t always be the naive teenager that didn’t feel like he fit in his own body.

M cracked the door open and took the clothes from Alec’s hands without a word, shutting the door behind him. He switched on the main light, flooding the room with white light from the modern, crystal chandelier. Oddly, it didn’t make the room look stark but warm.

He lay the clothes on the bed and inspected them with unveiled scrutiny. Alec had been right, they were plain, but M was grateful for the bits of red Alec had thrown in, no doubt for M’s peace of mind. It certainly wasn’t the worst combination he’d seen so he shrugged into it (Alec was most definitely broader than him, even if they were the same height) and looked in the mirror, seeing the sleeves dangle over his hands. The trousers were the right fit for the style, even if M would have preferred them skinnier. There was a moment of contemplation about not wearing trousers at all but he decided against it: that was saved for important parties and special guests. Forcing the t-shirt into a French tuck and rolling the sleeves artfully, he finally deemed himself presentable and walked out into the main room.

When he walked into the living room, he saw that everyone else was already awake, sitting around a table of pancakes (anything that had previously been burning was gone). But his eyes were only on one person. Gideon had turned to him, blue eyes sparkling in the dim morning light.

“Who got you that outfit?”

“This?” He asked, tugging on the jumper.

“Yes, that. It’s…”

“Not black?”

“Very much so.”

Gideon smiled. “It’s Magnus’. You like it?”

“I love it,” M blurted, ignoring the sniggers coming from the other side of the table, where Alec and Magnus were conferring under their breath. “It suits you. Brings out your eyes.” Gideon smiled through a blush, which by now Magnus had learnt was almost a permanent feature on his cheeks. Alec could have told him that, remembering his own teenage-hood. Then again, he’d been lucky (if you could call it that) to live a life so full of ridicule from his siblings that it had made him almost immune by Gideon’s age. It made Alec wonder what Gideon’s siblings were like.

“Pancakes?” Alec finally interrupted, when the silence dragged out for too long. M nodded and sat at the table, leaning back and folding his legs on top of each other, one ankle resting on the other knee. “So, what’s the plan today?”

“Gideon and I are going to the Institute in,” he checked the clock, “fifteen minutes, to train. You’re free to do what you want.”

“No tasks for me?”

“I’m just going to be reading more. It’s up to you whether you want to help. You could take a few of my clients but they’ll probably be a bit confused.”

“Not worth the effort. But I’ll find something to do.” He wasn’t going to mention that the plan formulating involved a season of America’s Top Model and a lot of wine.

“Okay,” Alec agreed with a shrug, in an oddly trusting sentiment. M was wary of the openness he as being given but took it at face value and didn’t delve deeper.

They finished their breakfasts amid mindless chatter where Magnus seemed to go to great lengths to defend his choice of rug, whilst M argued vehemently that his was better. Gideon remained silent, watching the action with a small smile whilst Alec inputted with whatever little knowledge he had to defend Magnus (although, after a while, he had begun to realise that M might have been right).

“Okay, it’s time we went,” Alec said suddenly, his chair scraping back, dish in hand. “Thanks for breakfast.” He pressed a delicate kiss to Magnus’ cheek and hurried off. Gideon followed hastily with his own plate, a question on his mind. “Are we portaling again?”

“No. Subway today. I feel bad making Magnus do all the hard work.”

Gideon shuddered. “The subway?”

“What, do you not use it?”

“No. We do. It’s just…the subway.”

“And?”

“It’s just…dirty.”

Alec laughed. “We really need to have a talk. How are you even a New Yorker?” Gideon didn’t grace that with an answer.

The subway journey was short, though the length was perpetuated by Gideon’s uncomfortable gazes at random mundanes. He hadn’t glamoured himself, following in Alec’s footsteps, and found it disconcerting not to be able to hide in the shadows. Still, they made to the Institute in good time (with a surprising lack of delays on the major lines, which was a minor miracle) and were quickly changing out of their ‘Magnus’ outfits and into training gear.

“Second lesson,” Alec announced, voice booming in the empty room. For a moment, Gideon wondered if anyone else ever trained in this room or if Alec just knew when it was empty. “I want to do hand to hand but is there anything that you think needs more work?”

“Well, I’m good with a bow. And Jace always made me practice flips. So, I can do them well. I think. But anything else is…not really my speciality. I’m okay at balance, I guess.”

“Hand to hand it is. I can test the other skills at the end. You ready?”

“Sure.” Gideon placed himself in the starting position, feet spread, arms ready to block rather than attack (good understanding of his opponent, Alec surmised happily, his intuition will come in handy). “Just tell me when to go.”

“Today’s rule, no fight will begin with the word go.” Alec leapt whilst he was still speaking, fist coming down hard on Gideon’s chest, knocking his breath from him and throwing him towards the wall. But he didn’t have time to recover, having to throw his arms up as another blow came down. He assessed the situation as quickly as he could and quickly rolled away, giving him the ability to fly back to his feet, prepping himself in another defensive position. With the first move played, he was ready.

“You’re not protecting your whole body,” Alec shouted, despite the heavy silence around them. “I could do this.” He kicked Gideon’s legs from underneath him. “Or this,” he added, throwing a kick to Gideon’s shoulders once he was on his knees, “and then this.” He used his foot to kick Gideon onto his back. “Your defence only blocks basic throws. It’s not nuanced or adjustable. Here,” he showed, moving into position, “copy me and let’s run through the steps.”

It was a slow process to begin with but as the hour passed, Gideon seemed to become more malleable in his movement, allowing the teaching to settle in quickly and make him more reactive to new scenarios, a key aspect of Shadowhunter training. They both panted, sweat dripping from their temples, when Alec deemed their progress made enough. He was about to announce the closing of their lesson when Jace walked in.

“Well look what I’ve found. Why wasn’t I invited?”

“Because you would never let me instruct.”

“Of course I wouldn’t! I’m now an actual instructor, leave it to me.”

“You train Simon.”

“And have you seen how good he’s gotten? He can throw a killer punch.”

Alec rolled his eyes but smiled. “What do you want?”

“Just to see how the new boy’s getting on. How’s Alec faring as an instructor?” Gideon shrugged. “Look, even your pupil wants me as their instructor.” Alec didn’t really see how Jace had come to that conclusion. “Come on, how about I show Alec how it’s done?”

“Jace, I haven’t even found out what his weaknesses are.”

“Then let’s test them now. You up for that?” He asked Gideon. Gideon shrugged again. Alec couldn’t shake the feeling that something had happened last night; Gideon had been oddly…quiet, this morning. “Good. Alec, what have you looked at so far?”

“His archery is great. Hand to hand is rusty but we’ve just done an hour of it and he’s picking it up quickly enough. I think most of the aspects are there, they just haven’t been practised enough.”

“Okay then. Flips first, then balance, then weaponry. That covers a lot of the basics that don’t involve rune work. It’s what I do with Simon. Show me what you got, new boy.”

“Stop calling me that.”

Jace shrugged. “Fine.” Gideon seemed a little shocked by that, like he’d never seen Jace give in or back out of a joke but recovered quickly, following Jace to the next room over, where they had raised beams to practice both flips and balance in one. Without being asked, Gideon climbed onto the first one with the rungs on the side and stood about ten metres from the ground. It was the highest one, with the 7m, 5m and 2m beams next to it. They were solid wood, standing in an almost carbon copy of the cavernous training room, except that the ceiling was higher here and the blue wash had been replaced by a warmer orange.

“Run!” Jace called up, a sinister smile on his lips. It seemed Gideon knew what to do, tapping down on one edge of the wooden beam before sprinting to the other side and pressing his hand down there too. He had no safety gear on but at eighteen, he should have been trained enough not to fall.

Except, obviously, he hadn’t been trained enough and on the fifth sprint, his ankle twisted and he was sent plummeting to the ground. Alec yelled and tried to find a way to dampen the fall but Jace seemed to be in a state of stupor. He’d been training Simon, who would have easily survived a fall from that height; he wasn’t used to someone as fragile as Gideon. He hadn’t trained someone like him since his time with Clary and then he’d been overzealous in his protections just by instinct and affection.

Gideon hit the floor with a thud. It seemed he’d had to practice flips early and although the twisting ankle meant he’d flown from the wrong angle, he just about managed to land the landing, although there was a painful cracking sound that must have come from somewhere near his knees, which were bent too far. His landing angle was awkward, sending him sprawling backwards.

“Ow.”

“Shit. Gideon! Are you okay?” Alec worried, hovering over the face-up teenager with a furrowed brow.

“Yep,” Gideon grunted, letting out a ragged breath. “I’m fine.” He tried to push himself upwards but seemed to lose all his energy and fell back to the floor. Jace finally approached. “You finally ready to admit you’re not the best instructor in the Institute?” Alec joked.

“As long as I’m not behind you.” Jace held out a hand for Gideon and pulled him to his feet. “Sorry about that.”

“Jace apologising? Well, this is new.”

“Hey! I apologise. Sometimes.”

“Before Clary, I don’t think you apologised for anything,” Alec inputted. He shouldn’t have. At the mention of Clary, Jace’s face fell, leaving an empty shell of a Shadowhunter behind. Sometimes Alec forgot it could be a delicate subject. It only hit Jace sometimes, making it a conversational minefield to even bring it up. Sometimes he’d laugh along with a wistful sigh that stank of nostalgia. Sometimes he’d turn into this, where Alec’s parabatai bond felt nothing.

After a few seconds of permeated silence, Jace seemed to light up again, though it was obviously forced. “Sorry to cut this short but I think that’s training done for today. What do you two say to hanging out for the day? I can show you the Institute,” Jace offered Gideon, a little too much desperation edging into his voice. Whenever Clary was mentioned, whether it affected him well or not, Jace went into hyperactive mode, trying to distract himself from the thoughts in his head. Sometimes that involved training, and sometimes it was dragging Alec and Isabelle into uncomfortable and long social situations. Alec’s worst nightmare. And quickly becoming Isabelle’s too.

Gideon looked to Alec for guidance, like Alec was his…mentor or something. It felt odd but Alec decided not to bring it up for the time being and shrugged his acceptance. “Jace can give the tour. I’m going to get a bit of work done.”

“That’s fine with me,” Jace said. “It alright with you?” He asked Gideon, who confirmed with the now infamous Gideon shrug. Alec never thought a man could shrug as much as Gideon did; it was like a skill in itself. Alec didn’t know whether it was a life of living in someone else’s shadow, insecurity or general apathy but it was a little disconcerting.

They parted ways, leaving Alec to wander the halls until he found the office he’d been set up in for the last two months whilst they prepared for the move to Idris. Finally, they were changing the rules about Downworlders in Idris and with Magnus being the first warlock to become High Warlock of Idris, he had a special pass to go early before the wards could be altered (helped by the fact that Magnus would be one of the people to work on the wards). They were only waiting for them to find a free place for Magnus to portal his apartment to (they’d fought for it so hard; they weren’t giving it up now). And, of course, for them to change the wards just enough for Magnus to be able to do it. Magnus was powerful, he didn’t need a complete altercation of the wards to be able to get in but he did need some leniency and to not get attacked on sight when they came through. For now, it was on the back burner whilst the Clave regrouped and formed their new Shadowhunter-Downworlder allegiance that wasn’t like the flimsy Accords of the past but something that promoted genuine unity and transparency.

Alec collapsed into his office chairs, surrounded by slightly hazardous piles of paperwork. He wasn’t usually one to be so messy but the new allegiances came with a lot of law changing and as Inquisitor, although he didn’t have the same pressurised role as the Consul, he was left with plenty to do. He didn’t hesitate in getting started, winding the next few hours away in the dull monotony of signatures and scrambled words.

There was a moment, once nearly three hours had passed and the clock clicked midday, that he wondered what Jace and Gideon were doing. A tour around the Institute took an hour at most, never mind three. They probably didn’t want to disturb him, he surmised, although it came with guilt about Gideon being stuck in a no doubt inescapable situation.

It was finally at one o’clock in the afternoon that the pair bounded back in. Jace seemed happy, blonde hair strewn across his face like he’d just been in a fight, with a tired-looking Gideon behind him. “That took a long time,” Alec commented. “What were you doing?”

“Well it only took me half an hour to show him the Institute but I thought you’d want to get on with work so I decided to show him how it’s done.”

“How what’s done?” Alec sighed.

“Sword work. Showed him a few of my tricks.”

“So you showed off for three and a half hours?”

“No! I just…”

“Showed off for three and a half hours. Anyway, Gideon and I should probably get back to the apartment. I think we both need showers and Magnus will be wondering where we are.”

“No!” Jace suddenly shouted, with a fearful amount of urgency. Clearly, the energy hadn’t yet left his system. There wouldn’t be a patrol until the evening, leaving too much time for Jace to dwell on his own thoughts. “How about you stay for lunch? You can shower here and you had clothes beforehand. Izzy would love to see you. And Simon’s coming in as well.” That didn’t really advertise the situation but Alec felt the guilt from earlier cripple his chest as he agreed with a reluctant “fine, but just lunch.”

“Sure thing, brother. Meet you in the dining hall?”

“I’ll see you there.”

“Dining hall?” Gideon asked as the door shut behind him.

~*~

Jace, Izzy, Simon, Alec and Gideon all sat on one table in the back corner of the Institute, grabbing the attention of many of the other Shadowhunters in the Institute. Although the Lightwood siblings were often seen together (and that was including Jace), it was rarer to see the Daylighter with them and even rarer to see another unknown Shadowhunter amongst the already odd cohort.

“So, where’s Clary?” Gideon finally asked, stuffing a piece of meat into his mouth like he was ravenous. Teenagers. “I thought she was with Jocelyn or Luke but if she hasn’t shown up by now…” A thick silence descended, causing Gideon to shift awkwardly in his seat. Clearly, he’d finally caught onto the fact that Clary’s name brought a distinct tension to any of the Shadowhunters.

“Not here,” Jace finally managed.

“So is she with Jocelyn?”

“Jocelyn’s dead,” Alec interrupted, to try and save later awkwardness. The guilt earlier was nothing compared to this. Distantly, he recognised it wasn’t his fault and the years passing between then and now had done something to dull the pain but it would forever painful to remember that it was by his hand that she was dead. Clary’s mother. His friend’s (no matter how tenuous sometimes) mother. “Alec,” Izzy called softly, placing her hand on top of his. “It’s okay.” Gideon stared at them in puzzlement but didn’t dare speak. Alec, knowing how curiosity festered in himself, revealed: “I killed her.”

“You did not kill her! You were possessed!” Izzy argued, face alight with passion. There was never a time Isabelle looked more passionate than when defending one of her brothers. Or Clary and Simon, but that was a lot newer.

“I may not have been in control, but it was still me.”

“Do you blame the person or the sword?” She argued back, both palms flat on the table like she was ready to stand and argue her point to the whole room. Gideon remained silent, fidgeting the time away. Alec didn’t say anything either; he’d rather not prolong this argument.

“So…” Simon tried, in his usual awkward way. “Who’s this?”

“You didn’t tell him?” Alec asked Izzy, latching onto the new topic.

“It didn’t come up, okay?” Isabelle was evidently on the defence, the volume rising with each word. There was a piercing anger to her words that Alec didn’t suspect; then again, he shouldn’t have been surprised.

“I’m Gideon Lovelace,” Gideon introduced quietly, head ducked, staring at his lap.

“He’s also Alexander Lightwood,” Alec explained for him when Gideon decided not to go on.

“I thought we weren’t telling people!” Gideon interrupted, a look of shock permeating his face.

“Well, we can tell Simon.”

“Why? He’s just a vamp.”

“Hey!” Izzy shouted.

“Yes, and he’s our friend.”

“But…he’s Clary’s…he’s not…”

“By the angel, you really are Alec. Stop being so moody and pretending you hate everyone, it’s boring. Simon’s nice and you’re friends.”

“Does anyone want to explain what the hell is going on?” Simon intervened.

“Basically,” Jace began, “an interdimensional portal opened up and this Alec and his Magnus came through it. For now, we’ve hidden his identity and are trying to find a way to get them back to their own dimension.”

“Oh.” Simon didn’t seem to have any other words. It seemed that despite everything, some things could still make Simon speechless. “Every time I think the weirdest has happened…” Maybe not.

“How is the vamp even in here?” Gideon asked, with an undertone of disgust (something Alec would never have tuned into if not for Magnus). Isabelle paled, like she might just hit this new version of her brother. Even Jace looked to suddenly be holding back anger. Alec, ever more composed, tried to get through with reason.

“He’s not just the vampire, he’s Simon. And he can be in here because we let him in.”

“Aw, Alec, I knew one day you’d stick up for me.”

“Shut up,” Alec intervened, albeit lightly. He and Simon were fragile friends but they had a camaraderie in their now pretend disgust of each other, so visibly different to Alec’s barely veiled bigotry.

“But this is hallowed ground. Vampires can’t walk on hallowed ground.”

“First, ‘hallowed ground’ doesn’t exist and second, this wouldn’t be anyway. The Institute was built to look like a church but it never was one.”

“I don’t get…is just anyone allowed in here?”

“If they want. I made it so anyone could seek refuge in the Institutes. Even mundanes, in the worst-case scenarios. We’re supposed to protect people so I made it so we could.”

“But…why?”

Alec sighed but resisted the urge to drop his head into his hands; he was too busy giving the evil-eye to siblings to make sure they stayed quiet. Getting angry at Gideon wasn’t going to do anything, he knew that. “You’re fighting a war against Valentine, right?” He asked once he’d composed his words.

“Yes?”

“And what he’s aiming to do?”

“He wants to take over the Clave and kill all things demonic.”

“Including the Downworlders?”

“Well…yes.”

“And you’re fighting against him?”

“Of course! He’s-”

“Yet you seem to be just as bigoted towards Downworlders.”

“I am not-! I like Magnus.”

“Who you’ve repeatedly told me isn’t your boyfriend, despite it clearly being the case. And having respect for Magnus doesn’t mean you respect all Downworlders, or even just all warlocks.”

“I’m not a bigot!”

“I’m not trying to be mean here. But you can’t just keep calling Simon ‘vampire’ and telling him that he doesn’t belong here. Removing yourself from them isn’t any different than hating them.”

“I- I-”

“You should become a motivational speaker,” Jace commented, seemingly pleased with Gideon’s speechlessness. “You can talk all about what you would say to your younger self and then say you actually did it!”

“Admittedly, I didn’t think I’d have to give myself the race talk.”

“Well…” Isabelle drew out, “you weren’t the most open Shadowhunter.”

“I was closeted not bigoted.”

“You did insult Simon regularly.”

“For being Simon, not a Downworlder.”

“Thanks, man,” Simon replied with a smile.

“Still-”

“Well, he did offer to become a vampire himself. I feel like that kind of retracts most previous actions…” Simon admitted.

“He what?!” Gideon spluttered, hands dropping onto the table with a slap.

“He was going to become a vampire, to go to Edom and save Magnus.”

“But you-”

“It didn’t actually happen. Clary created the alliance rune so we could go,” Alec explained. “But yes, before that I did say I would become a vampire.”

“By the Angel.”

“Well isn’t the lunch going well,” Jace said scathingly.

“And I wasn’t invited because…?”

“Magnus!” Isabelle cheered gleefully, spreading her arms out wide. “How have you been?”

“Brilliant, my darling. Although, I’ve been a little down as my Alexander didn’t show up for lunch.” Magnus pouted dramatically. Alec had never said he’d come home for lunch and Magnus had never asked but he found it fun to drag out the dramatics for all that they were worth.

“Hey Magnus,” Alec muttered with a smile, pressing his lips to his husband's cheek. “Why are you here?”

“Well…” Finally, the group seemed to notice the silence around them. All the Shadowhunters were staring. Magnus wasn’t an odd addition to their little group but M…well, he was certainly a colourful addition. It seemed he’d finally used his magic for something. The getup Alec had given him earlier had been altered completely. Although the bases of the clothes were there, the red had been made to shine, with golden embroidery running through it. His jacket had been given shoulder pads in sparkling silver, glitter strewed liberally around the collar and over the gleaming shoulders. The jeans had been made so skinny that nothing was left to the imagination and his makeup was done so dramatically that he put Magnus to shame.

Everyone was staring…and whispering…and staring. “Is that you?” Simon hissed at Magnus, eyes caught on M, his gaze intractably stuck. No one answered, letting the silence perpetuate in the hall.

“Well, seems like they like me already!” M announced. “Though it’s nothing new. At least none of them are spitting on me.”

“They spit on you?” Isabelle gasped, finally standing up like she was ready to protect M with her life. God knew why. But she did have an eerily close relationship with their Magnus.

“Isabelle Lightwood?” M guessed. She nodded. “Well, you’re looking different. And acting different. And being generally quite…un-Isabelle Lightwood like.”

She sighed. “I really want to know what’s going in your dimension because it sounds like everyone there is an absolute bitch.”

M rose an eyebrow and suddenly, it was obvious why Magnus Bane was so infamous. It was like power was exuding from M. It was almost worrisome, if not for the sly smirk on his face. “A bitch, you say. Well, that’s a first.”

“Oh, I didn’t- I didn’t mean you! I-” M raised a hand, pausing her mid-sentence.

“Jace was right. This is awful,” Magnus commented. “But on another note, all of us really ought to speak in private. People are…” his eyes scanned the room slowly, “staring.” The group stood up together, ignoring the leftover food on their plates and followed Magnus out of the dining hall.

“So, no one ever told me where Clary is,” Gideon whispered in Alec’s ear as they walked. He was now quick to catch on that mentioning anything aloud was probably going to get him hit so Alec was his best chance at answers. He was constantly calm, composed in a way that Gideon never thought he was himself, and was the least likely to rage at him. He thought of his own family; maybe some things really didn’t change.

“Gone,” Alec answered succinctly. “The Angel took her memories of the Shadow World. And her runes. She’s a mundane now. Doesn’t remember anything.”

“The Angel…why?”

“Not now,” Alec muttered, “someone will hear us.” Gideon nodded reluctantly and continued to follow the crowd until they made it to the Head of the Institute’s office (or so Gideon assumed; it had a very ‘Izzy’ touch to it). Isabelle took the seat behind the desk, confident in her place, whilst Magnus leant against the side of the desk, just as he had done when he was beside Alec in the apartment. Alec stood behind Izzy, as if protecting her from something whilst Jace and Simon sat on the sofa opposite, looking relaxed (well of course, Gideon thought, this wasn’t anywhere new for them). M pretended not to feel the awkwardness which so crippled Gideon and sat on the armrest of the sofa by Simon, eyeing him carefully from the corner of his eye. Gideon, on the other hand, was stuck. There we no places for him left to sit apart from the small gap between Simon and M which he’d rather not try and squeeze into. Instead, he reluctantly sat on the floor by the door, head resting against the wall as he wished to be anywhere but here.

This whole thing was getting worse and worse.

“We are gathered here today to,” Magnus began, mimicking the rumbling tones of a priest at a wedding. Alec quickly stopped him, hand resting on his shoulder. “What have you found?” He asked, purposefully skipping out on the inevitable interlude of bad jokes and dramatics.

“Okay, fine. My performances are wasted on you, Alexander. I’ve talked to a few Seelie contacts and I’ve gotten more information but I’m going to need Isabelle’s chemistry knowledge to help me through. It’s a shamefully modern science and not my area of expertise. But that’s all. Frankly, I just wanted to escape that rather toxic atmosphere.” Alec sighed but didn’t seem irritated by Magnus’ actions. The rest seemed to follow suit. It almost scared Gideon to see this copy of his family follow Alec of all people. Of course, Gideon was the oldest too. He should have been the leader. But he always got pushed back, further and further until no one even saw him anymore.

“Let’s go then,” Izzy announced, pushing back her seat and taking Magnus’ hand, dragging him out of the office and through the halls. Alec, although he was probably allowed to, didn’t take Isabelle’s seat out of respect and took a spot on the desk instead, sitting in a small nook that didn’t have paperwork piled on top of it. A lot of Shadow-hunting had gone digital but Alicante was still awfully old-fashioned.

“So,” Jace began (never a good sign). He was staring at M, his eyes stuck on the warlock’s chest, where Alec’s top had been pulled so taut that the red colour was almost transparent, the thin gold lines running through it all that stopped it from being sheer. “You’re…Magnus.”

“I wouldn’t compare me to that Magnus,” M said scathingly, pointing to the door. “But yes, I’m Magnus Bane.”

Jace looked a little worried. This M was a lot more intimidating than their own Magnus (who was, although it was probably rude to say, all too kind and quite a pushover). “Why not? Be compared to him, I mean,” he asked hesitantly, something rare in Jace but brought out when he thought he was in danger of having to fight someone he didn’t want to.

“That Magnus is a pushover.” Well, Alec guessed someone was going to say it eventually. “I’m not. You Nephilim are always the same.”

“In what way?”

“All you do is ask for things, with nothing in return.” Alec was about to stand up for himself (he hadn’t asked M for anything since they’d got here; only offered his help) but Jace beat him to it. Out of the corner of his eyes, Alec saw Gideon flinch, curling up on himself by the doorway. It was eerie how invisible he could make himself. If Alec hadn’t burdened himself with the idea that it was his responsibility to make sure Gideon was okay, he wouldn’t have noticed him at all. Simon shuffled awkwardly, unsure of how to escape from his spot between Jace and M, who were both now standing like they were about to come to blow. Distantly, Alec was aware that they were actually saying words but he couldn’t quite tune in. He was all too aware that he actually thought M was right, in a way. If not for Alec, Magnus would have done nothing for them. And because of the advantage they had in terms of his and Magnus’ relationship, they’d pushed the warlock to do many things he’d never wanted to do.

They’d exploited him.

Alec remembered speaking to Lorenzo, shouting at him for exploiting Magnus’ weaknesses and feeling disgusted. So much so that he almost felt sick with it. And now he was just realising that he was no different. No wonder the warlocks had hated the Shadowhunters (and some still did) when all they did was push them past limits to do actions that weren’t their duty to do.

“Jace stop,” Alec finally shouted above the hubbub of frantic arguing. “He’s right. Not that it matters now, but you have to agree that we made Magnus do a lot of things he wouldn’t have done otherwise.”

“But you-”

“No. We did. We can at least admit that. We’re making amends with all Downworlders, we can’t just deny that we need to make amends with those we’re close to as well.” Jace gritted his teeth but sat back down; Simon, slowly but surely, shuffled away from him, as if the anger was a palpable aura surrounding him, burning Simon’s vampiric skin. M seemed to be calming down too, though he still glared balefully at Jace from where he stood.

“I think it’s best I leave,” he announced, brushing down his outfit and heading over to Gideon with an arm outstretched. "Let’s go.” Gideon grasped M’s hand and let M lead him out, stumbling as M used his height to rush out before anyone could catch up. Simon was the one who followed after them, though he clearly wasn’t making out to stop them, just escape the violent tension that resided in the office still.

“Jace,” Alec sighed, leaning against the front of the desk, directly opposite his parabatai.

“I won’t stand for some random stranger come in and insult us like this!” Jace argued vehemently. Clearly, the anger hadn’t faded; his voice was loud and booming, reminding Alec of when Jace had first broken out of his obsequious shell and shown his true personality underneath.

“He’s not a stranger. For better or worse, he is Magnus. The only difference is that he’s less happy. Can’t you see that? You and Magnus both seem to dislike him so much but it’s because you’re not seeing how much he’s struggling with all of this, are you?”

“But-”

“No, Jace. No arguments. Let him be. And anyway, he was right. We made Magnus do a lot of things he didn’t want to at the time. But we’re past that now. Let’s just leave it alone.”

“I still don’t like him. And honestly, I don’t understand why you’re sticking up for him when all he’s done is insult your husband.” Jace stalked off and slammed the door behind him. It was just Alec now. He sighed; it didn’t feel unfamiliar.

~*~

“So, how about that first date?” Gideon halted in his tracks, causing M’s hand to jolt out of his own, sending them both stumbling.

“Now?”

“Yes, now. What better time than the present?”

“But…where?”

“This may be a different dimension but New York is New York. You ever been to the Brazilian place on 91st Street. It overlooks the East River and has some of the best Brazilian food I’ve ever tasted.”

“Okay…are you sure it’ll be there, though?”

“Let’s go and find out!” Gideon hadn’t seen M happy like this since they arrived. Or ever, possibly. M was…well, he was secretive, grumpy and had a genuine dislike for a lot of people. But there were times, usually when it was the two of them alone, that Gideon thought he might have been seeing the true M. His smiles were wider, his spark that bit brighter. It had been what had drawn Gideon in the first place. And then kept him there because despite M’s sealed-off heart, there seemed to be a secret backdoor for Gideon (and maybe only Gideon; it wasn’t like he knew who any of M’s friends were).

M seemed to be happy to walk the few blocks it took to get to 91st Street, which Gideon now realised was barely a minute from the Hotel Dumort (very different to the one he’d been in, just over a month ago, but with the same sign on the door).

The walk was serenely quiet as they wound through the evening streets. New York was bustling yet they barely had to push through the crowds. As usual, M’s presence seemed to push the mundanes to the side like he was royalty amongst the commoners. The last few blocks were winding down as they finally reached their destination. The river was streaming by quickly on their right as they stared up at the vacant building.

“Let me guess,” Gideon said, “this is where it is.”

“Okay, so I admit that you may have been right. Still, I have a backup plan.”

“You do?” Gideon really shouldn’t have acted so surprised but M was impulsive, backup plans were not really part of the Magnus Bane package.

“Don’t sound so surprised! Now, follow me.” Gideon couldn’t do anything but oblige, running after M like they were both children. It was a giddy rush pounding down the pavement, M’s jacket flying behind him as he fled down 91st Street. Gideon caught up once they passed over a period of green, his feet soaked from old rains, laughing like he was on top of the world. There was something so different about running freely than chasing someone. It was giddy, not frightening. There was no anxiety about being too slow, only the pounding of footsteps as you tore through areas of traditional New York housing.

“What are we doing?” Gideon asked, far less out of breath than M was. It was clear out of the two of them who had the stamina rune.

“You’ll see!” M cheered. Gideon smiled at him, wide and intractable. It was like they could pretend that everything else wasn’t happening. It was just them and New York. Maybe a little different but the same New York in essence.

Their journey stopped once they reached the riverbank. Magnus clicked his fingers and, with a few seconds delay, a blanket appeared on the floor with a brimming basket of foods. “If we can’t go the restaurant, I’ll make the restaurant come to us,” M announced, spreading his arms open wide before collapsing onto the blanket. Under the dying sun, M looked beautiful. His cat eyes glistened and his skin turned almost preternaturally pale, giving him even more of an ethereal aura. Gideon couldn’t help but stare, hesitantly falling onto the blanket. M didn’t mention the staring and confidently opened the basket, taking out crockery and plating up two Brazilian dishes with varying foods.

“Take what you want from either. All of it’s good.” Gideon smiled and nodded, taking one of the plates to begin trying a few things. M was right, it was amazing. But, in the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t what mattered. What mattered was the warm feeling in his chest whenever he caught eyes with M, or the tap of magic in him as he watched the water glisten under new moonlight, or the unwitting smile that Gideon couldn’t rid himself of.

It was like they were in a bubble. One that would eventually burst. But he couldn’t even begin to think about the future. Then and there, it was only them. The whole rest of the world was a blur, nothing but a glistening landscape to admire. M held his hand out for Gideon to take, smiling gently. “Was this alright?” He asked, in a rare show of vulnerability.

“More than alright. It was beautiful.”


	4. Really

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was an absolute nightmare. It started as 4000 words. Then, I realised it made no sense and I hated it and I re-wrote it. Now, roughly, it's about 8000 words but now it's too drawn out but I'm on holiday for the next week so I'm just putting it out there. I'm definitely happier than I was with it to begin with but the frustration has meant it's not proofread as well so sorry for any errors.
> 
> But, ignoring my big rant, I hope you enjoy, despite any personal feelings I have towards this chapter :)
> 
> -fouryearslater

The laboratory was hectic in its mess. Books laid open, pages spilling over the sides of the desks. Takeout containers were spilt on the floor, a pile of noodles eerily piled in the corner for a reason no one could quite comprehend. Vial after vial of technicolour solutions lined the shelves. Isabelle looked worse for wear, hair hastily tied in a ponytail, black hair spilling like foam from the edges. Magnus wasn’t much better, except he had magic to keep the remnants of his looks intact. However, his jacket had been lost somewhere in the endeavour, and his waistcoat was gathering dust on one of the desk chairs. His jewellery had slowly been removed as the night had progressed and gold scattered the grey work surfaces.

Yet in the eye of the storm, there was quiet. The room was in disarray ( _they_ were in disarray) yet there was just quiet. Both were gaping, staring down at nothing more than a small rack of vials, each with the same black powder in them. It was only the beginning but they had a list of the formulaic changes they had and could make for each one, each ready to lead them to an unknown dimension. It was a start; they could only hope that the similarities in their universes meant that a similar enough compound would lead them to the right place. If they had to go through each and every possibility of more than a billion entities, it was going to be a long journey.

Out of the corner of his eye, Magnus caught Isabelle’s gaze, an unwitting smile slipping onto his lips. “We’ve done it,” he gasped, cracking the silent ice. Time for the storm. “We’ve actually done it!” He cheered, arms rising outwards like he was ready to take on the world. He took a step back from his work, gazing sycophantically down at their shared creation. “We did it, Isabelle,” he repeated, unable to disguise his shock.

She turned to Magnus and saw his open arms. “We did it!” She squealed, throwing herself into his arms. Gleefully, he spun them in a circle, holding her tight. Their cheer permeated the dreary, focused atmosphere with unbound joy.

“We created inter-dimensional travel!” She shouted, pulling back.

“We created inter-dimensional travel!” He repeated, pulling her back in. They held each other close for a while, revelling in their success before Isabelle punctured the joy with a sigh. “We do have to test it,” she reminded. Magnus’ cheer was not lost, though. Despite the gnawing in his gut, a latent anxiety that theory didn’t always stand up to the test, he hastily begun the process which he had scrupulously written down, pushing his worries aside.

Isabelle followed suit, dragging her exhausted body through the laboratory (which was actually just a sub-sect of the infirmary, one of three laboratories in the Institute, the other being an extension of the weapon’s room and the other in the basement. It had only used to be one, but Isabelle’s persistence had meant a more diverse range of equipment and far more focus on the scientific nature of their jobs). Despite having been at this all day, which was only being made clearer by the fluorescent lights, they showed no signs of stopping. They’d gotten this far; it was time to get this done.

Magnus and Isabelle smiled at each other as they worked, making Magnus ever glad that they were such a comfortable pair. If it wasn’t for her, he didn’t think they’d be anywhere. In the end, it had been a combination of her scientific knowledge and his proficiently trained magic that had created the perfect combination. Isabelle had found a way to edit the compound to their needs, giving them almost endless combinations to try (although there had been limits she couldn’t yet push past, meaning they’d just have to hope). Magnus, for his part, had combined a portal, a simple windowing and mirroring spell into a complex concoction that only one of the most powerful warlocks could achieve. It would allow them to see the other dimension in terms of their own and allow them to pass through once they’d found the right one. Meaning, seeing as they were in the Institute now, it would show the Institute (or at least it’s location) for every alternate dimension in its picture.

When the finalities were put in place, they cleared a corner of the laboratory, making room for the small pentagram Magnus would draw with the basic Edom salt. It would act as the original conduit and be wiped away once the portal was established. Magnus would be its catalyst but he’d gained permission to link it to the Institute’s angelic power rather than his own, making it an almost permanent fixture without his magic or the pentagram.

It was drawn without ceremony, allowing them room to gather their wits before the real work began. “You ready?” Magnus asked.

“Of course. Let’s see our work pay off.” Magnus didn’t have the heart to tell her that this may not have worked. Instead, he let his body flood with power and began his chants. The Latin was familiar on his tongue, the mantras something he’d spoken for the last four centuries, even if they were modified for his purpose. Pride gathered in his figure; this spell was original, and his own. This would go down in the history books, he realised, and although he didn’t know whether that mattered to him anymore, it felt like something to revel in, nonetheless.

It was mere seconds before an orange glow permeated the room, growing larger and larger until the portal was fully formed, standing proudly in its corner. It was oval, a poor mimic of an ornate mirror, with its sparking edges almost forming the usual marble artistry of an old-fashioned frame. At that moment, it showed nothing but a mundane café, all wooden archways and quaint art. A mundane world, Magnus guessed (or more likely hoped), if it wasn’t showing the Institute.

“Check another dimension,” Isabelle urged. It was the sensible thing to do. To make sure the variations worked as well as showing the right picture, a test for both their halves. Magnus carefully lifted a vial off the test-tube rack and poured the precise measurement onto a pair of weighing scales, bringing one of the dishes to the pentagram and pouring it onto the stars fifth, downwards facing, point.

The image shifted, changing like it had melted away and been reborn. It formed to show an empty room, yet so obviously the Institute. It lacked the technology of their own but the rune inscriptions on the ceilings spoke more than familiarity. “By the Angel,” Isabelle gasped, “it really works. Really, actually, works. Do you think this is there’s?”

“It could be. If we’re lucky. Very lucky.” Magnus’ words were pessimistic but the smile couldn’t lie. A thick layer of happiness suffocated the doubt and left them washed away from reality. “There’s only one way to find out.”

M and Gideon had been together for the day, avoiding the Shadowhunters and their friends. M had been steadfast in ignoring Jace after their debacle and Gideon was mostly following suit, mustering a small smile when he could. M had also seen unwilling to part with Gideon which meant training had been out of the question, seeing as Jace was so intent on instructing (or at least helping, he had argued. His training is more important than your distractions, Alec had wanted to spit back. He didn’t.) Hence, they’d both been redirected to one of the empty bedrooms to pass the day by, where they’d be least likely to run into anyone. Magnus had offered for them to go back to his apartment but both of them were too on edge, waiting just as tersely for Isabelle and Magnus to find a solution as everyone else. They’d wanted to be nearby.

It worked in Magnus’ favour now. “I’ll go grab M and Gideon,” he stated succinctly, moving towards the door. Isabelle nodded her assent, bouncing on the balls of her feet as her gaze shared equal measure in fawning over their creation and cheerfully celebrating with Magnus.

Magnus left to wind his way through the corridors, finding the bedroom Alec had escorted them to earlier (or so he had been told when Alec had brought their takeaway, stating that Magnus shouldn’t be wasting any more of his energy than he already had). With a small smile, a leftover of his previous elation, he knocked gently on their door. There was something so freeing, he thought, about being able to tell them good news instead of bad. “It’s me, Magnus,” he called through the door when there was no reply. “We think we’ve cracked it.” The moment he said it, the door flew open, revealing M in the doorway, as imposing as he was hurried.

“You’ve done it?” He asked breathlessly.

“All we need to do is find your dimension.”

“Alec!” M called, turning to look back into the room. Magnus froze. Why was- oh, right. Not Alec. Gideon. Of course, that wasn’t a surprise. In his dimension, Gideon was Alec, of course they’d still called each other their real names. Magnus didn’t know why he’d been so worried anyway. He was fairly sure Alec wouldn’t be hanging out in M’s bedroom, even if M technically was him. Not that that’s what they’d be doing…

Soon enough, a flop of dark hair appeared from the bathroom. “What?” Gideon grunted. He looked like he’d just been in the shower. Magnus decided not to question why.

“They’ve solved it. All we need to do is find our dimension and then we can go home.” All frustration vanished in a second. Gideon perked up, elated, slamming the bathroom door, only to come out less than a minute later looking a lot more composed. “We can go home?” He asked.

Magnus smiled. “We think so. There’s still no certainty that we’ll find your dimension but Izzy and I are fairly confident.” Magnus didn’t want to get his hopes up, nor did he want to crush them. “You two ready?” He eyed the two of them up now that they were both in front of him. Magnus may not have questioned what they were doing before, but he would admit to a modicum of curiosity.

They both nodded and followed Magnus back down the winding corridors which he knew like they were drawn on the back of his hand. The Institute was larger than Magnus sometimes remembered yet it felt so small now, familiar in a way that only a version of home could be. There was a moment where he wondered how it had become this: a home of sorts. Barely a decade ago, so short in comparison to the rest of his lifespan, the Clave had barely disguised their violent hatred of Downworlders, of him. Now, he was married to the Inquisitor. He himself was a leading member of the very same Clave! Funny how these things happened.

Once they were back in the laboratory, they were met by an overeager Isabelle, her smile permeating the room with unbound light. “M, Gideon! We’ve done it!” The pair smiled, walking further into the room, their eyes immediately entranced by the mirror in the corner. “Is it yours?” Isabelle asked softly, understanding the need to focus as they scrutinised the picture.

Slowly, Gideon shook his head. “No.” He stared at it for a moment longer. “Something’s…off.”

Isabelle nodded, hiding her mild disappointment behind a falsely cheery veneer, motioning Magnus to her side. “Let’s do the next batch,” she ordered, falling into her own version of the Lightwood mission-mode. Unlike Alec’s, she didn’t hide behind emotionlessness, not anymore. She managed a modicum of severity but the happiness still held in her posture, even the slight quirk of her lips.

Magnus added the next batch with what seemed like practised ease. In a moment, the picture dripped to the floor, leaving another in its wake. “This one?” Gideon shook his head. The immediacy was fair; none of Gideon’s description ever came close to the catacomb-like Institute that they were seeing. Magnus’ eyes darted to M, looking for his opinion. He needn’t have. M’s face was blank, even a little confused. But of course. M was likely familiar with the Institute but it wasn’t his home. He wouldn’t likely be able to tell one from the other if they were similar.

Under Isabelle’s orders, Magnus added the next batch, and the next, and the next. Gideon had lost words somewhere around the fifth and just shook his head each time. Until the eleventh. The eleventh was the match. The Institute, so oddly different from their own, barely held anything to distinguish it yet Gideon was sure. “Magnus, that’s it!” He shouted, a smile overcoming his face. He ran to M, repeating “that’s it!”

“We should get our stuff together,” M said, barely tampering down his own ecstatic smile.

“We have nothing to get together,” Gideon argued. “We can go.” Before M could even suggest goodbyes, Gideon had moved. And it was then, in a move of impulsiveness that reminded Magnus far too much of Jace, he ran at the portal. The urgency rooted Magnus to the spot, watching the spectacle with a concoction of fear and confusion. Except, he realised, it made sense. Alec was often calm, collected and the sensible one of their group. But there was one thing that made him break the mould every time. Family. And being stuck in another dimension, not knowing if his family was even alive or not, would be nothing less than tearing him apart. Knowing his family was at war, his Alec would have done anything to join them. Magnus had even seen the repercussions of that. There was a moment of guilt when he thought about the silence Gideon had held, not even mentioning his family to any of them, hiding his pain behind the urgency of their task, yet he didn’t have time to dwell.

Gideon had hit the portal.

And it had thrown him back.

The room turned frantic. Gideon, forced back by magic, was thrown into a nearby pillar. M, watching the chaos unfold, rushed to Gideon, holding him up as he checked for wounds, sighing out in relief when he found nothing but bruises. Nothing an iratze couldn’t fix. Magnus rushed to the portal, infusing it with magic, trying to find the error, panic washing over him in violent tidal waves. Why wasn’t it working?! Why wasn’t it-

The image had changed. It wasn’t the Institute anymore. No, it was something else. It was…Idris. Gideon’s eyes were now all too aware when he watched the image materialise behind blurry eyes. M’s gaze followed, eyes widening at the picture forming.

“No,” Gideon whispered quietly, bringing himself to stand, leaning heavily on the pillar. The picture finished its shift, leaving nothing but clarity in its wake. Gideon was speechless for another moment, before he screamed a heart-wrenching “NO!” He threw himself at the portal again, only to be held back by M’s arms around his waist. “Alec, stop!” He tried to order but it didn’t stop the struggling. “You can’t go through. It’s not letting you through.”

“No! I can. I can go through. I have- I have to!” He didn’t sob. He didn’t cry. It felt the same.

In the picture, Max was dead.

“You can’t go through,” M reasoned gently. “You’ll just get thrown back again. Just stop. For him, just stop. He wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself,” M continued, slowly letting Gideon go. He didn’t move, standing frozen in the middle of the room, encased by suffocating silence. Isabelle was crying now, impossibly quiet tears streaming down her cheeks, leaving tiny flecks of black mascara in their wake. She watched her brother (a copy of her brother but her brother nonetheless, no matter their differences) lay motionless in her parents’ arms. Magnus couldn’t bear to do the same, averting his eyes to the stone floor. Gideon wouldn’t turn away, even when M tried to redirect him. M’s insistence was starting to scathe, though.

“Get out,” Gideon ordered.

“Alec-”

“Everyone, get out!” He roared.

The room fell to a standstill. Gideon heaved in deep breaths, devastation in every crevice, movement and dart of his eye. On the surface, there was anger, violent and raging in his aura. The devastation was buried beneath it, a poor attempt at hiding it from the world.

Magnus left first, followed quickly by M. They both knew staying would do no one any good. Isabelle lingered, though, watching the boy in the mirror. Pale-faced, loose-limbed, dead. She left when she couldn’t bear it anymore, phone clutched in her hand, finger poised over her brother’s number. There was relieved guilt on her face. At the end of the day, she was the one still able to call her brother.

That left Gideon. Alone. With his mourning, with his questions. By the Angel, so many questions. Why hadn’t the portal let him through? Why was it showing him this? Why was-

Why was the picture changing?

Gideon rushed forward, collapsing. He sat inches from the mirror, cross-legged like a child in front of the TV. The picture formed slowly, melting wax giving way to a new inscription. Now, it showed a funeral. The funeral of many, not just his brother, he’d guess. Hordes of Shadowhunters were dressed in white, like stardust amongst the muddy green fields. Gideon was amongst them, dressed in a pristine white suit (new, he could guess). His parents were beside them, in matching colours, as was Izzy, but there was a distinct lack of Jace. Anger poisoned him for a moment before he let it go, wallowing in his own grief. Feeling was…too much, right now. It was easier to feel nothing than it was to feel everything.

He watched for almost half an hour as the picture progressed. The angle remained the same but the people bustled and moved. There was no sound but Gideon could imagine the flood of voices when they opened their mouths to utter their farewells. Except, Gideon realised. They shouldn’t have been saying them yet. They hadn’t burnt the bodies.

Except…they had. The ashes were there, disgustingly piled to be shoved off to the City of Bones. When had they burnt them? Gideon hadn’t seen them do it and he was sure, _he was sure_ , they weren’t burnt at the beginning. No. Something was off. Time was…time was skipping. It was like it was showing him clips, only fragments of the larger picture.

Thoughts swirled and flittered. Ideas formed and dissipated just as others stuck. Time was skipping but that didn’t mean anything. But it made him think. Why would time skip if they were on the same timeline? That was the presumption, wasn’t it? They didn’t need the time element because of it-

It clicked.

He pushed aside his grief, his feelings, everything. If there was one thing Alec Lightwood would always be good at, it was pushing aside his pain to get the job done. _(He’d blow up the very ground he stood on to make something right)_. So, eyes still intent on the mirror, he picked himself up off the floor and straightened his spine.

He needed to find out what the date was.

~*~

“I don’t understand what we’re missing,” Isabelle muttered under her breath, staring down at the vial in her hands. “We had everything.”

“Well.” Magnus was staring at the vials, a sense of damnation in the air. They were in the weapons room, now. Being Isabelle’s domain, it brought a new sense of focus to the room. And, well, not having takeout boxes everywhere did help.

Magnus sighed. Isabelle wasn’t quite right. He hadn’t even thought of the problem straight away but it became obvious after a while. His magic had no holes and neither did Isabelle’s chemistry, meaning there was a key factor they’d missed from the very beginning. And one they’d even thought about. “Not everything.”

“What?”

“Time. We forgot about time. Or, well, we hoped it wouldn’t be necessary but the rest of our work is foolproof, I don’t think it could be anything else. I don’t understand why it wouldn’t just let him through, though. The time element makes it seem like it’d only be important if you were trying to go backwards or forwards. We’re not, we’re just trying to go across. I guess it’s all speculation, though, we have nothing to prove what we’re doing is right or wrong.”

Isabelle sighed, pursing her lips. She looked focused, examining her notes in scrupulous detail. “Is there any progress on finding it?”

“Not yet. But there are still more options to exhaust.” She nodded and turned the page, reading the next page of her notes, still checking for mistakes. Right now, they had no real reason to believe that it was definitely the time element that was stopping the portal from working, there could still be errors. Although, there was also the interesting conclusion of the rebound of the portal to think about. A failed portal would normally stick someone in limbo, not throw them back into the room they came from.

Pushing himself from his thoughts, Magnus took a seat and swung aimlessly. M had been lost with time, leaving only Magnus and Isabelle behind. He’d remained for all of a minute, stoically silent, before he’d escaped without a word to where he was going. Magnus didn’t blame him. Neither of them knew Max very well but the pain was still prominent; it always was when they were linked to someone you loved. Not that they could take priority on pain. Despite Isabelle’s focus, it had obviously hit her hard. Pain was etched onto her features as much as her usual determination. Still, there was something he could relate to with M. Magnus understood his feelings, or what he could only assume they were. He’d felt it before. The feeling of being one of the most powerful warlocks on the planet and still being unable to find a solution. And now there were two of them, and they still couldn’t. It didn’t seem fair.

“The date,” a voice gasped from the door suddenly, panting and out of breath. “What’s the date?” Gideon breathed. His eyes were frantic and his body was leant against the doorframe like he’d collapsed onto it. Clearly, he’d run here, and fast.

“August 10th,” Magnus replied.

“What year?”

“2019.”

“What?”

“It’s 2019.”

“No, it’s- that’s it. I was right. It’s why it’s not working.”

“The time element?” Magnus asked, his mind clouded by hope.

“It has to be. I don’t think it can work without it.”

“Why not?”

“Our…timelines, or whatever we want to call them, aren’t the same. Last time I saw the date, it was 2007. We’re, what, twelve years apart?” Magnus gaped and Isabelle put her papers to the side, shock permeating her thoughts. No one seemed to have a reply to that, grasping for words that never came.

“Twelve years,” Magnus finally gasped hoarsely.

“Is there no way of finding the time element?” Gideon asked desperately. I can’t be stuck here forever, he wanted to scream.

“We haven’t used up all our options but it will make the process harder. Especially if the timelines are so different.” Gideon looked down in defeat; in times like these, he could almost make himself invisible. It had always been his skill. To never be the centre of attention, to skilfully push someone else to the forefront so he could hide. Hide himself, his emotions, anything.

It left him time to think. His mind shifted back to the portal, back to the awkwardly stilted video it showed him, where time just didn’t add up. Where time was-

_Skipping._

“I need you to come with me, now.” Neither Magnus nor Isabelle questioned it, following him to the infirmary in a frantic run. Gideon threw the doors open and rushed towards the portal, fingers glancing over the liquid-like surface but never quite touching it. The picture was different once again, showing M and Gideon in the apartment (goddamit, Magnus thought, that is a nice rug). They both looked like they were trying to recover from the hell they’d just suffered. Gideon was back into more comfortable clothes and his body spoke defeat and whilst M was back in his more glamourous attire, the bags under his eyes couldn’t lie.

“Time’s skipping,” Gideon told them. “Quickly. None of the pictures are adding up. They keep skipping parts of time. It’s like a movie. They’re cutting out the bits they don’t want to show.”

“How quickly?” Isabelle asked, walking up behind Gideon and examining the picture herself.

“Quick enough to wait for it to catch up, I think. If all else fails, I mean. They were in Idris barely five minutes ago. A portal in my dimension takes longer than that to set up, especially from Idris. And no one would leave so quickly after a funeral. I’d expect it’s at least a day after, if not a week or more.” Gideon couldn’t quite manage a smile but the relief was palpable. “So, if we can’t find the time element, I can wait.” It was almost a bald-faced lie. Gideon didn’t want to wait, he didn’t think he could wait, but he would if he had to. He just needed to get back.

“We’ll need to calculate how fast it’s going, otherwise we’ll have the other problem and they’ll be ahead of us. By the Angel, why is nothing ever simple,” Isabelle complained but seemed glad to have a task.

After that, silence reigned yet again. Magnus was starting to feel the irritation seep inwards. He’d never liked silence, never mind the oppressive nature of the quiet that had plagued the last few days. Disaster was always like this, yet he never found himself used to it. In an effort to break it, he approached Gideon, who was now wistfully watching the picture of him and M move slowly with time. Laying a hand on his shoulder, he assured: “it gets better with time.”

“Will it?” Gideon sighed, though he didn’t expect to be answered. He didn’t believe it would get better after this. Max was gone and he didn’t even know why, or how, or if he tried to stop it. Because he wasn’t there. There was nothing crueller on his mind than that.

Magnus watched Gideon, watched his face change as the thoughts spun his conscious. Sighing, he squeezed Gideon’s shoulder tight, a poor comfort but the best he could do without making Gideon run scared. “It always does,” he said simply.

~*~

The stars were beautiful from up here. Only a few could shine through the thick pollution of New York’s light but they were beautiful nonetheless, maybe because of their rarity. Gideon loved to watch them, a profound sense of peace permeating within him. His eyes roved over the dark grey skies, finally settling on New York’s skyline, a thousand stars instead of barely ten. Colours erupted from the city that never slept, piercing through the darkness with unbridled power. Gideon wondered for a moment which was more beautiful.

Yet he could find it within himself to care. Peace may have been found but it flittered away uselessly the moment he let his mind reign. And he always did. There was only so much he could push down and in times like these, when he was alone, it was the only safe time to let them spill over, empty the jar so he could make room for what was inevitably going to come.

He watched the streets below with a vapid emptiness that reminded him of his own mother; behind it, his mind screamed, over and over and over-

He almost scoffed, what a thing to think about your own parents. Ever loyal, Gideon would never say it aloud, but the thoughts he had about his parents never failed to darkly amuse him.

The streets were almost empty at this time, making things stand out starkly. Each and every moment like a punch to the gut as he thought of Max. He saw a dog barking loudly into the night and remembered how much Max had loved dogs, although his parents had been adamant about not taking care of a pet (sometimes he wondered if his parents even thought Church was real). Even the quiet fluttering of the wind reminded him of the turning page of a book, making him remember the mangas Max hadn’t been able to stop reading, over and over without a way to buy another. Alec hadn’t really understood them but he’d loved them for the sake of his brother.

It was when he saw a couple arguing on the sidewalk that he felt his heart be ripped from his chest. The memory was almost too painful yet it was so much more striking than the rest of it. It reminded him of his final moments with Max. He didn’t remember his last words to Max but he remembered what he’d been like. They’d dismissed him, ordered him out of the room despite his excited chatter. He’d been so happy and all they could do was roll their eyes. He remembered, distantly, that someone may have shouted at him. It may even have been him.

And now he’d never see him again.

The sound of a squeaking door broke his vigil, scraping through the night’s quiet with profound power. “Gideon?” M called out. Gideon sighed; guess he’d been found. His silence didn’t seem to dispel M, though, who spotted him with ease and approached carefully, sitting down close enough that he could comfort Gideon without impeding on his space. Gideon stared at him, unable to even muster a facial expression. M really did look beautiful. Under the night’s sky, he sparkled with glitter that shone just as bright as the stars in the sky. Despite it, he was like a statute, shrouded in calm as he crossed his legs and placed a hand on each knee, looking almost meditative as he stared out at the skyline.

Except there was a scowl on his lips.

M was secretive at the best of times but emotions still seemed to pour out of him, snippets of what he was really feeling. Gideon was getting better at deciphering them, even if he couldn’t always crack them open.

“I found out why it didn’t work,” Gideon finally said, still staring at the horizon. If M wasn’t the only one in the room, he wouldn’t have thought it was directed at him at all. “It’s the time element. Do you know what year it is?”

“2007.”

“It’s 2019. They’re twelve years ahead here. Twelve years.”

M didn’t show anything, but the scowl deepened. “Are we stuck then?”

“No. Well, not quite. Time is moving faster there than it is here. They’ll catch up. Isabelle doesn’t know when but she’s going to figure it out.”

“So, it may still take…?”

“Yeah.” If there was one thing Gideon was glad for, it was that grief had made M quiet. He really liked M, he really did, but he couldn’t have dealt with the… the _charm_ right now. But Gideon forgot just how old M was. M could read a situation perfectly. The charm was used when it would be received well and his silence was only the same. M wasn’t an idiot. Gideon was grieving, so he’d grieve alongside him.

But silence needed to be broken at some point. As did grief.

“I didn’t come up here to know how they were doing. I wanted to know how you were doing.”

“I’m fine,” Gideon lied. He didn’t know how to do anything else.

“No, you’re not.”

“Well, what do you want me to say?” Gideon wanted to shout, yet he couldn’t muster more than a quiet plea, so quiet that it was almost captured by the night. “That I wish I was there? That I wish I wasn’t stuck here watching everything happen in a fucking mirror?” Gideon never swore. “Max is dead, Magnus, and I’m not even there.”

M was silent, procuring his words carefully, his body picture-still. “But you are. A version of you, the same you, is there. You’re doing all you can, you just don’t know it yet.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Because you’re here, telling me you want to be. You’re the same person. A few days isn’t going to change that much.” M knew that his words weren’t getting past Gideon’s impermeable mind but it didn’t stop him from trying. “You can’t feel guilty for not doing something when you are.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure I can, seeing as I am,” Gideon replied facetiously.

“You shouldn’t.”

Gideon pursed his lips, twisting them until they turned white at the edges like the pain was going to remove what was going on in his head. That was about as far as M could decipher. However much he remained a mystery, Gideon was just as much of an enigma. No matter how much he knew of his history, there would always be a cloak of mystery on the Shadowhunter. There were so many little gestures, ticks and movements to learn. More than he’d ever seen before. It was the funny thing about the modern era, M thought. Everyone was so much more open with their emotions. It made hiding them more difficult. There was no strong decorum to follow, no blank veneer that had been trained since birth. Any attempt at doing so often looked cracked and untrained. It meant that to hide your emotions you had to show them in such variety that no one could ever hope to catch up.

Gideon seemed to have mastered that. His displays were so varied and changeable that Magnus couldn’t have kept up even if he were writing them down. It felt like every moment with him was new. It had been one of the first things that had been so enticing about him. Now, all he could think was that it was deeply frustrating.

“‘ _Shouldn’t’_ doesn’t matter when I still do.” Gideon finally answered.

“Let yourself mourn, Alexander, but don’t feel guilt. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But what if it was?” He hadn’t been there. He couldn’t know what had caused Max to die. It could have been him. _It could have been him_. They’d left mid-battle and Gideon knew nothing of what happened between then and Max’s death. All he knew was the devastation on his own face in the mirror.

“I don’t think it ever would be,” M argued. “You’d never let that happen.”

“You have too much faith.”

“No, I don’t. I just know who you. What you’re like.” M had finally seemed to pierce through something. Although it didn’t fit a smile in place, it caused a small quirk of his lips. Between the turmoil and pain and grief, he knew he was thankful that M was here.

They said nothing more. Nothing more needed to be said. Instead, they revelled in the comfort they offered each other, looking up at the stars with their hands intertwined, connecting in their grief and care.

This, Gideon thought, was what he’d always wished for.

~*~

His heart palpitated like the beat of a drum, steady and sure. Each beat was another tense moment, ready to strike. His eyes darted around the room, trying to find an advantage he hadn’t yet discovered, when Jace threw himself forward. He ducked, breath loud in the silence, and threw an uppercut, almost catching Jace’s jaw. But his brother was fast. He’d thrown himself aside, laugh piercing the sound of their heavy breaths. He bounced on his feet, fists raised, with a smirk on his face. “You’re going to have to try better than that.”

“If you taunt me any more, I’m actually going to try.”

“Oh really? Then I guess the game is on.”

Alec pounced before Jace could move, rushing at him, using his height advantage to get Jace on the floor. But Jace was faster (and, although Alec would never remind him, better trained). He flipped him over in seconds, holding his arm and keeping him in a hold he couldn’t escape. Alec struggled, regaining his breath, before he used his legs to escape, rolling over and throwing himself to his feet again before he composed himself, stance ready for another attack. Jace just smirked, forcing them to circle each other, making Alec second-guess when the next attack would come.

“So, have you come to your senses yet?” Jace goaded, fists raised.

“About what?” Alec knew what.

“M. That is what you’re calling him, isn’t it?”

Alec rolled his eyes. “With the amount you’re trying to bring him up, I’m starting to assume things.”

“You’re going to wish you hadn’t said that.” In a move Alec didn’t expect, Jace had restraint, waiting at least five seconds more before he launched his surprise attack, catching Alec’s arm and gut before getting him to the floor again. He’d locked him in a headlock when someone else entered the room, smirk on their face.

“Ah, memories,” Magnus sighed at the sight of them, making Alec blush and Jace slowly crawl backwards (he didn’t know what he meant but he had learnt to be wary of Magnus’ comments, they never meant anything good). “Now, if you two are finished being all chummy, I have something to tell you.” Magnus’ face fell, gravity capturing his features. Alec fell into mission mode with an ease that felt all too familiar (it always felt this way, when their problems started to look long term) and stood up. Jace, slower on the uptake, lay for a few more seconds, eyebrows creased before he seemed to catch on and followed the pair out of the room, quickening his pace to match the urgency of Magnus’ footsteps.

They made their way to the weapons room, entering without ceremony, to see Isabelle hunched over her desk, almost despondent. “What happened?” Alec ordered. He knew they’d been trying to find the solution to making a portal today. Either they’d failed, or something had gone horribly, horribly wrong.

“We made the portal.” Well, shit. “But without the time element, it doesn’t work. Their timeline is in a different place to ours.” Magnus seemed to have taken Isabelle’s silence in his stead, explaining with efficient calm.

“By how much?”

“Twelve years.” Alec blanched but stood his ground.

“Are they stuck here?”

“Not exactly. Their time is moving quickly, like it’s trying to catch up to ours. It will likely be less than twelve years. Isabelle’s doing the calculations now. Have you got anything?”

“No,” Isabelle sighed. “The math is tricky, and inaccurate. I’ll be lucky if I can even get a rough figure.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Magnus assured, placing his hand on her back soothingly.

“Have we got any further on figuring out what the time element is?”

“Not yet. Even the Seelies don’t seem to have an answer. Then again, they’re notorious for keeping their secrets. I’ll try to push through.”

“Thank you.”

As quiet fell, Alec finally noticed Isabelle. She may have been speaking, but the rest of her looked like she could barely stand. She looked tired, almost like she did when she was in recovery. To have gotten to this point…

“Max is dead,” Isabelle croaked, raising her head. Her eyes were red yet dry. Alec wondered how long she’d been holding onto this information.

“What?” Alec demanded. “No- He’s…he’s fine. He’s in Los Angeles. He’s-”

“Not our Max,” Magnus intervened quickly. “Gideon’s brother. We saw it in the mirror. Gideon tried to go through and now it seems to be showing snippets of his life.”

“He was in our parents’ arms,” Isabelle said, although she didn’t seem all that present, eyes focused on something that didn’t exist. “He was so pale.”

No one had anything to add to that. Alec was finally driven to sit by the sheer fear that coursed through him. “Where’s Gideon?” He asked urgently, head snapping up.

“I think he’s with M. I hope so, anyway,” Magnus replied. The atmosphere was so thick that even Jace didn’t have the gall to scoff at the mention of M, a common occurrence.

“I’m here.” The whole room spun to see Gideon and M in the doorway. “I’m fine.” They all knew he wasn’t.

M entered in silence, sitting on the desk with as much grace as solemnity. “We want a solution as soon as possible,” M said, “I want to help find the time element.”

“Of course,” Magnus concurred. “We’ll work together.”

“I’ll keep trying to find out the difference in the timelines,” Isabelle piped in, determination written all over her face. “You don’t deserve this,” she added carefully, although no less forcefully.

“Thank you,” M said graciously.

“I want to do something too,” Gideon said. “I’m sick of just training.”

“We’re not going to stop. But you can help Jace and I look into demon activity. We need to know what came through that portal with you, if anything.”

“Fine.” Gideon didn’t seem too pleased with joining the side that wasn’t actively trying to get him home but took it in his stride anyway.

“Does everyone know what they’re doing then?” Alec confirmed, standing resolute. Mourning still plagued the room but whilst it plagued them with sorrow it was also giving them strength, a shared determination to do what they needed to do. It made Alec proud. They’d all suffered losses and it only proved how strong they were to be able to fight through another.

Although, as he looked at Gideon, he felt sorrow hit him. It was so evident by everything on his face that this was his first loss. It wasn’t a surprise. With his lack of training, he wouldn’t have patrolled often, meaning no casualties hit the same way as they did if you saw them. He’d been thrown out of the war he was fighting and no matter what he’d seen there, Alec was sure it hadn’t settled in yet. Not like this had. This had taken Gideon’s roots from under him and left him floating. Yet, somehow, that was a cause for pride in itself. Despite the lack of tether, Gideon was still there with them, just as determined. And maybe his distress was more palpable, but he’d taken it in his stride. He used his grief as his power. It would catch up to him eventually, the first always did. And for it to be his brother, Alec couldn’t even begin to imagine. He thought back to when Jace ‘died’ and he’d felt even a glimpse of the pain. It hadn’t settled in then, but his first reaction had rocked his entire world. The loss, the pain, the agony. The hole in his heart that he couldn’t replace.

As the room moved, everyone preparing to go back to their sleeping quarters (or the apartment) before they started their missions tomorrow, Alec approached Gideon. He was packing a bag, messily scrunching up his workout gear as he forcefully pushed it into the backpack. “Gideon,” Alec caught his attention with. Gideon looked up, eyebrows scrunched like he didn’t understand why Alec would want to talk to him. Ignoring the look, Alec placed a kind hand on his shoulder. “I’ve only had a glimpse of what you’re going through but I wanted to give you every condolence I can. And I mean it. I felt Jace die once and no matter what happened afterwards, the pain was worse than anything I’d ever known. I can only imagine what it feels like for you.”

There was a difference between a parabatai’s death and a brother’s yet both were just as strong. But were just as destabilising. Everyone knew that. Gideon knew that. It shone in the thankful gleam of his eye. He only nodded, though, acknowledging Alec’s words, but did nothing more. Still, Alec felt he had done the right thing. Gideon was going to need all the support he could get. Whether that would be from him or M, maybe even Magnus, he didn’t know. All he knew was that he was willing to give it.


	5. And

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait but this is finally up and longer than expected! Editing took longer than I thought because a lot's going on here but I hope you enjoy :D

People always make sadness beautiful. Like it’s an ethereal entity that inevitably causes joy, even if you have to suffer through the pain. Like there’s something always lingering under the surface: a revelation waiting to happen. But sadness isn’t always something good, or beautiful, or inspiring. Sometimes sadness is just…there. Perpetual. Painful. Ridden with grief and guilt and gore. There’s some sadness that lasts a lifetime. Sadness that teaches you nothing but to live with it, crippled by its burden. There came skill with that. A skill that shaped people’s entire lives. Gideon didn’t care. He didn’t want this to shape his life.

His brother was gone.

His nine-year-old brother: gone.

There are just some people are just too young to die. People can argue it endlessly. But some people are just.too.young. Innocence is a thing lost far too early, for good or for bad, but no one deserves to go before its dreaded ice has cracked. No one deserves to die before they’ve truly learnt what life is.

But people don’t get what they deserve.

Gideon knew that; he’d suffered for it all his life. No matter how hard he fought, life would never give him his fair share. And he’d learnt to live with that long ago. He took what he was given. And he’d been given this. And there was nothing – nothing – he could have done. That didn’t matter, though, nor did it compute. Just because he was stuck in this other fucking shithole with a man he refused to acknowledge his relationship with and a dangerous mimic of that said relationship, did not mean he had to be glad for it. This shithole was keeping him from his family, from the brother he’d just lost. Leaving him helpless.

All he was left with was a plethora of painful symptoms of his grief, piled on top of the merging feelings about his counterpart. Jealousy. Anger. Appraisal. Respect.

There’s nothing that could do more harm than happiness and sadness together.

It’s a dangerous concoction of elated pain, pushing as forcefully as unbridled excitement and hurting as much as a knife to the gut. Gideon didn’t cry, yet the combination was enough to force tears to his eyes. It was like two lions roaring inside his heart, clashing together in a battle of wills that spilt its blood from his eyes. It wracked his body, though he’d never truly let it. Instead, he’d sit in perfect stillness, shoulders hitching with each painful contraction of his muscles as he forced down the painful shudders.

It was funny how it was just the bittersweet symphony of life that was enough to send his careening off the edge of the line he so carefully walked along.

Today was a day he couldn’t let that happen. Not when he had perfect versions of himself to pity him. Not when he had kind-hearted husbands who wanted to do nothing but help. For them, he’d act strong. He would show no weakness. So instead of letting the mixture overwhelm him, he took a step back.

It left almost nothing in its wake. Only the overwhelming sadness that spiralled into depression: empty, vast and endless. It was what kept him up all night and what kept him up now, staring blankly at the goddamn mirror, wishing he could just feel something.

That was the funny thing about the line. He could so easily choose to step off it, yet it took a Herculean effort to step back on.

The image barely computed in his mind, clouded over by thoughts that he couldn’t quite grasp. There was just a fuzziness that he didn’t have the energy to bat aside. But it was easy enough to grasp the concept. The apartment he’d been in a handful of times, over-zealously decorated with glitter with a couple inside. Gideon and M. But not. That man, Gideon thought, was the lucky version of him. The version that knew what had happened to his brother and who looked like he could smile on the other side instead of being ripped apart by his grief.

They were smiling at each other, laughing at some unheard joke, as they pored over a magazine. Holiday destinations, Gideon realised, when he finally found the energy to focus back in. Europe, was it? That was definitely the shape of the Eiffel Tower…

That was the odd thing about the mirror. He would have thought it’d show his point of view or something if it was so intent on following him. But no, he had to be a third-person viewer to the madness of his own life. A life he had literally no control over. He couldn’t make any choices, instead, he had to watch himself make them and take them as they came.

So far, no choice seemed any different to what he would have done. That should have felt obvious, yet somehow it wasn’t. It felt wrong. Coming here, even if it was for such a short time, felt like it should have marked him, made him different somehow. That’s what these kinds of journeys were for. A gift from the angels to learn about yourself, to find redemption or revenge or release or just plain happiness.

Gideon suspected the angels had played no part in this. Not if they’d brought M along. Or the demons (if they could prove that). Nor could they have brought about this mind-numbing monotony of each day.

Books always showed the best bits: the highlights, the important parts. They didn’t show the sitting around, or the endless circle of someone’s thoughts, or the boredom that plagued the nothingness of someone’s life.

They only showed a turn of events.

Journeys weren’t meant to be like this. They were supposed to be adventures, grand quests where the hero got to save the damned princess. For a moment, Gideon wondered if he was the princess, stuck high up in his tower, waiting to be saved.

But he couldn’t take just sitting around. No matter the plague of depression clouding his mind, he focused on the portal, actively fighting to keep his concentration. Yet his concentration remained fleeting. As the picture shimmered and changed, he couldn’t find it within himself to figure out what it was now showing him. Instead, his thoughts were dragged back to Max, and he was left with the now-familiar emptiness of the thought.

Finally, the door squawked open and M entered, as tall and glittery as usual. An irrational surge of irritation bubbled up. His brother was dead and M had the gall to parade himself around in glitter and rainbows. But, just like his concentration, he couldn’t hold onto it. The irritation fell into emptiness just as quickly as the rest of the emotions fighting for a place. The depression was like a black hole, sucking in emotions and thoughts before they could even begin.

“Your eyes are going to go square.”

“What?”

“From the staring. You’re acting like America’s Next Top Model is on.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Of course you don’t,” M sighed and took a seat next to Gideon, crossing his legs and leaning his head on his hand. Gideon continued to stare blankly and Magnus, as if it would get him any answers but as usual, M remained silent. It grated on his nerves. Their differences had been an ever-present part of their relationship, as friends or otherwise; Gideon liked to think they didn’t matter. But this was beginning to feel ludicrous. How Magnus wouldn’t explain the simplest of things to him, keeping it as close to his chest as the rest of his secrets. And there were a lot of them. Gideon found himself stumbling upon them all the time, destroying the conversation as M dragged himself away and fleetingly waved his hands as he changed the subject.

Gideon couldn’t help but think about their date, running without a care to their future. The future was never worth thinking about in the present, but the future came about eventually. And it was always so dreadfully worse.

This.

This was worse.

This irritation, this confusion, thinking is it something I’ve done? Is this my fault? Why won’t you speak to me, Magnus? Why?

“You can’t sit here forever.”

“I won’t. I just…want to watch.”

“I know. But watching isn’t going to help anyone. Aren’t you supposed to be helping Jace and Alec?”

“Not until tonight. Demons aren’t going to be around in the day.”

“Yes. Right.”

“What about you? Haven’t Izzy and Magnus recruited you?” The question felt damning coming off his lips, squandered by his clear lack of investment as his mind swirled with thoughts that screamed leave! Irritation was a horrible thing to recover from. Once it poisoned your thoughts, it lingered, making you constantly question someone’s intentions or words. Constantly thinking about how each word irritated you more.

“Hardly. Isabelle is getting on with her calculations, though she does seem to be struggling. Maybe she will need your input. You probably know best just how much is skipping between the pictures.”

“Maybe. And Magnus? Doesn’t he need you for…magic stuff?”

M huffed a laugh. “I’m sure he’ll do his ‘magic stuff’ just fine by himself.” Silence seemed obvious after that, neither quite knowing what to say or how to say it. Thoughts came and went, spinning and spiralling and dancing and flailing. Time passed. Time always passed.

“We were talking about your father the other day,” Gideon finally said, stomach clenching. If M was going to keep secrets, it was time to confront him about it. “The other Magnus said he was Asmodeus. Or, at least, I think he did.” M eyes widened but there was no other outward sign of panic. Gideon prepared for a blow. For what, he wasn’t quite sure.

M sighed. “It was bound to come out eventually.”

“So you’re royalty?” He pried. Just say something, he silently begged. Just give me anything so I can stop blaming myself for this rift between us. A rift M didn’t even know about.

“Hardly. I’m the son of a prince of Edom. That is not a royal family anyone wants to be in apart from my father. I’m happy to not be royalty.”

“But technically…”

“Yes, technically I’m royalty.”

Gideon swallowed. “I’m sorry. That it wasn’t you who told me.” It would have felt better if you had.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. When Magnus said it, I’d just hoped you hadn’t heard. But…” M sighed, eyes falling into the distance. “I didn’t want to tell you because of how you’d react but then, I’m not sure, when he said it, I didn’t mind as much as I thought I would. Maybe it was the Alec here? He and Magnus are married so he almost definitely would have known, and there seemed to be no problems there. And now, after hearing about their journey with my father, maybe I’m not so scared anymore.”

“Really?”

“No, no. That’s a lie. I’m probably more scared. His father, although powerful, is nowhere near as powerful as mine is. Their Edom realm is almost like a bad mimic of our own. Ours may not reject angel blood but it’s a landscape almost no one survives in. It’s swarmed by demons and its leaders are as strong as the angels, only crueller. The only possibility of leniency is through bloodlines, and for the most part that is not enough.”

“That sounds personal-”

“A story for another time. But yes, I know exactly what my father is like rather personally.”

“Oh.”

“Yes. I’m glad to say that’s behind me now. Whatever’s going to occur in the future can wait. And if there’s one thing good about this realm, it’s that we can’t run into my father. Hopefully. Knowing him, he’ll be back, no matter the banishment.” Magnus was breathing heavily, like he couldn’t quite temper down his emotions. He was a locked cage, words dispassionate as they were sincere. It was a mix that Gideon didn’t want to delve into, lacking the personable skills most people had to lead them through situations like this.

Instead, he asked, “why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He hadn’t meant to say that, not really, but it had waited on his lips for too long. No matter how he framed it, in his mind he was asking a much bigger question. If M’s father was Asmodeus, fine, Gideon could take that, he really could. But he couldn’t take the secrets, not for much longer, anyway.

“Most people I’ve known don’t take the news well. And a Shadowhunter is liable to doing horrible things when scared.”

“I wouldn’t-”

“I know. But if you told Isabelle, or Jace, and you would want to because they are your family, then I would in be great danger.”

“They would never-”

“I have no proof of that.”

“Don’t you trust me?” There it was. The words that he’d held back for so long, simmering underneath his usual veneer of mild-tempered nothingness. Magnus sighed, eyes catching Gideon’s before he forced them away again, placing them intent on the floor. “I-” He couldn’t even say it.

“You don’t.” Just a statement of fact. Dejected, sure, but accepting all the same.

“It’s-”

“No, don’t. It’s fine. I get it. I’m a Shadowhunter. I just thought-”

“What?”

“I thought that maybe this would work because we trusted each other. Because I didn’t think it would work any other way.”

“I trust you in many things, Alexander, it’s the only reason I’m here with you right now. But I cannot honestly say that I trust you with everything yet.”

“Yet? For how long, Magnus? I’m not immortal, I can’t wait for you to finally open up when I’m on my death b-”

“Don’t. Don’t think about that.”

“What? Your immortality? My death? Because I do. A lot. It’s the thing I think about the most actually, aside from the whole keeping secrets thing.”

“Keeping secrets?”

“I don’t just mean your father, Magnus. I mean everything. Your past, your friends, everything. Where you lived, what you’ve done-”

“I tell you plenty.”

“I don’t care about the drunken escapades, Magnus! I’ve told you everything about myself, down to my greatest fears and worst moments and all you’ve given me is some anecdotes you’d tell a stranger!”

“You seem to have thought a lot about this.”

“Of course I have. I don’t know what a relationship is supposed to be like but I do know that you’re supposed to open up. And I did. Yet you haven’t said a word. I don’t- I don’t want your whole life story, Magnus. I can wait for that. But I just want something, anything.”

“You never told me this.”

“Well what did you want me to say?! I didn’t- I didn’t know what to say and frankly…” Gideon swallowed, throat tight. “I didn’t think we’d last if I did say anything.”

“That’s now how this works. If you think something is wrong, you have to tell me. You can’t just-”

“What? Hold things in? You were. So I thought that maybe we could just ignore it. Because it didn’t feel that important at the time. But I’ve realised it is. You don’t trust me. And I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about that.”

“I don’t trust you with certain things. That’s different.”

“That’s not how a relationship should be! You can’t just half trust me.”

“We fought a war together, side by side, do you think that didn’t take trust? Do you think I would just do that with anyone? I am powerful and I let you have that power for yourself, let us share it.”

“I have a parabatai, I know you don’t have to be in love with someone to trust them with your back. What you’re describing is a friendship, not a relationship.”

“Then you don’t understand what a relationship is.”

“Well, maybe I don’t. I don’t exactly know much about them. But I know about communication. That it’s important.”

“And seems you’ve been failing at it.”

“Don’t throw this back at me,” Gideon spat. “I’m bringing it up now, aren’t I? And if you’re going to be facetious, I guess you can leave.”

“I’m not trying to be. But you’re being childish and naive. I have things I don’t want to tell you yet and you have the gall to be mad about it.”

“I’m not mad about that, okay?! I’m just-” Gideon tried to find his words but it was like running in the sand, full of trips and falls. “I want you to tell me something. Because it’s adding up. These secrets, your immortality-”

“You never said my immortality was an issue before.”

“Because it wasn’t. But you know, seeing Max gone, I guess it reminded me about my mortality. Last night, I couldn’t sleep. All I could think about was me dying and you being left there until you could forget about me and let me become just another memory in a hundred thousand more.”

“You’re being selfish.”

“Selfish?! I’m-”

“Yes, selfish. You think it’s bad that I won’t remember you? Did you ever have time to think about the pain I’m going to go through losing you? Let’s say this does last, let's say we make it up until the day you die, and then I have to mourn you for decades, maybe even centuries, in constant agony because I lost you. You’ll be gone, Alec. You’ll be in whatever afterlife there may be, having a grand old time whilst I suffer, sick with loss. You’ve just lost someone you love, you know what it’s like.” Gideon swallowed. He didn’t have an answer for that.

“I just want to grow old with you.” Gideon didn’t know why he said it. It felt presumptuous now that it was out of his mouth, like he just presumed that Magnus was going to be his first and last relationship. But it felt like a last-ditch effort to recover this situation.

He should have known better.

“Well, I guess that’s just awful for you then, isn’t it?” M spat and stalked out, hands stuffed into his pockets, long legs taking large strides out of the room. All in all, he was gone in seconds.

Gideon wanted to cry.

But he wouldn’t. Gideon didn’t cry.

~*~

Isabelle threw another piece of paper in the bin, her aim impeccable but her temper anything but. A small scream escaped her lips but was muffled by her fist before she slammed it on the table. “Nothing?” Magnus asked, coming to sit on an empty space on her desk.

“This maths is confusing. I’m trying to use algebraic expressions to keep in mind all the variables but there’s too many of them and the integration required is mostly unsolvable. I’ve even checked on the computer. No solutions. And the numerical methods are long and they keep getting nonsensical answers.” She groaned. “It’s just awful.”

“I don’t mean to sound presumptuous but can’t you just make an estimation? Get roughly the days passing and make an average.”

“I could,” Isabelle huffed, though clearly she’d already gone through this train of thought, “but they need to go back almost down to the second. If this isn’t accurate, they might just be stuck here.”

“It’s fine,” Magnus tried to comfort, “we’ll just put extra effort into finding the time component. You don’t need to-”

“No. I’m going to keep trying. Alec told me to try so I will.” Well, there was that Lightwood sense of duty. And stubbornness. It was moments like these when he remembered that Alec and Izzy were siblings.

“Take a break anyway. Meliorn’s coming in soon to discuss this with us. He likes you more than me, it’s better if you’re not bogged down in maths.”

“Maybe. I’ll take a break, but only as long as Meliorn is here.”

Magnus smiled. “That’s fine. Now, come help.”

They didn’t get far; they were only two minutes into their consultation before someone arrived. Magnus turned, ready to welcome Meliorn in. Instead, the doors slammed open, hitting the wall with a heart-shuddering bang as M stormed in, fingers glowing ominously as he clenched and unclenched his fists. He was brimming with energy, it surrounded him like it was spilling off him in waves. It wasn’t dangerous yet, and still invisible to anyone but a warlock who knew how to sense it, but Magnus could see the potential. For maybe the first time, Magnus realised that M might just be more powerful than him.

Although, he noted with an impending feeling of doom, the black lines running through his aura were definitely something to worry about it, curdling at the lowest points of his magic, thickening and pulsing.

M was silent but his presence was loud, approaching them like an oncoming storm. His motions were turbulent, spilling between eerily composed and unsettlingly fluid. It was something Magnus recognised in himself; M was trying to hide his hurt, that much was obvious.

“What happened?” Magnus finally asked, when the energy began seeping the air out of the room.

“None of your business, Bane,” he spat, sneering like a terrified cat. Isabelle shuffled further towards the desk, eyes looking at her work but clearly making small glances up at them, unable to let herself not see the action.

“I think it is if you’re going to be storming in here and distracting us from our work. Either you calm down and help us or you tell me what’s going on.”

“Or I could leave.”

“Yes, you could, but you came here for a reason, didn’t you?”

M couldn’t hide the twitch in his lips, the only small kink in his demeanour that showed his fury. His body was almost entirely still. Even the flowing lines of his embroidered shirts weren’t enough to soften him. Instead, he looked like a statue, perfect marble, gazing tempestuously at his only possible confidant.

“Gideon’s-”

“Being stubborn? I know that look.”

“More than stubborn. He’s being a child.”

“He almost is, M. He’s eighteen. I didn’t meet Alec until he was in his twenties. You have to give him some leniency.”

“I know that but I tried to explain it to him but he’s stuck in his own head, and that head is stuck up his ass.”

“Wow. What did he say?”

“That he can’t deal with my immortality. That he can’t deal with growing old without me. But he doesn’t seem to understand that I’m the one that has to lose him. He gets to die.”

Magnus sighed. The argument was familiar and although they’d recovered from it, the fears still lingered on top of them, a grey cloud gaining momentum, ready to break the first opportunity it could. “You have to understand his perspective too.”

“What? That he’s jealous I get eternal youth? Does he not realise-”

“No, he doesn’t. That’s the problem. He’s not immortal, he doesn’t know what it’s like. And I know all you want to do is scream logic at him, but you can’t. He can’t understand.”

“He says I’m keeping secrets too.”

“Are you?”

“Yes! But what does he expect? Really? If I tell himself and he feels obligated the tell the Clave, I could die. I’m not someone who can die for a good cause, never mind a bad one.”

“Is that all you’re keeping from him, though?” Magnus knew himself better than that.

“You told him who our father is. He’s annoyed I didn’t tell him sooner.”

Magnus frowned. “But the both of you aren’t even-”

“I know. That’s what’s frustrating about all this. He’ll hardly recognise our relationship yet he feels allowed to insult me for keeping some things to myself.”

“Your past?”

“Of course! What am I going to tell him? He already knows about my mother. My stepfather. Now my actual father. What next? Oh yeah, did you want to hear about that time I got surprise-attacked in 1742 when I was found with another man in my bed? Wasn’t that a delight?” Magnus couldn’t suppress his shudder; even between dimensions, some things never changed.

“My brother would listen.” Both their heads snapped up. Goddammit, they’d forgotten Isabelle was even there.

“He-”

“You don’t really know him yet. And I know I don’t know Gideon that well either but I know my brother. And he is loyal, kind and above all else, compassionate. You tell him that some shit happened in the 1700s, he will invent time travel to avenge you. But he can’t handle lies, even by omission. I promise you, nothing you could say would push him away.”

“She’s right,” Magnus agreed. “I understand not telling him the intricacies of the warlock community. You’re right, he has loyalty to the Clave too and yours sounds as corrupt as Chinese Communism right now. But that doesn’t mean you should withhold your past. It will only break you apart. You don’t have to tell him all of it all at once. But stories every now and then. Open up. Otherwise, he’ll feel like he’s flayed himself open and you’ve done nothing in return.”

“What if I-” can’t.

“You just have to try.” M grit his teeth but nodded, ending the conversation as succinctly as it started as he strode over to Isabelle’s work and examined it over her shoulder. He was about halfway through her notes when Meliorn was escorted in, looking slightly smug.

“So, can you help us?” Magnus asked.

“Well, we’ll have to wait and see.”

~*~

Gideon hauled himself into the ops room with as much grace as a zombie, arms dead at his sides as he shuffled his feet along, head hanging low. He was a picture of dejection: wrapped in a blanket of suffering and grief burdening his shoulders. Alec was tempted to send him back to the infirmary where he could keep staring at the portal like a possessed man but bit back his words when he finally saw Gideon’s face. Distraction was what this boy needed. Desperately.

Jace stayed silent behind him, which was definitely restraint on his part. Although, after the fall, Jace had been a lot gentler with Gideon. And maybe his own pain was starting to make him more sympathetic towards others. Slowly, Alec would barter, but surely.

“Hi, Gideon. We’ve still got a few hours until we go on a hunt but if you want to help us monitor, you’re welcome to sit down.” Gideon didn’t speak but nodded his assent, taking one of the two free chairs next to Jace, eyes intent on the screen. Only after fifteen minutes did Alec realise a vital fact.

“You don’t know what any of this means, do you?”

Gideon, still silent, just shook his head, eyes glazed over like he’s completely given up. Maybe this wasn’t the best distraction. “Okay,” Alec sighed, “I’ll show you another time. For now, we’ll get geared up and do a bit of training before we go. Jace, keep an eye on the monitors?”

“Sure thing. Call me when you need me.”

Alec nodded and let Gideon up and out of the ops centre, leading him to the changing rooms that connected directly to the weapon’s hall. Gideon didn’t have his own gear but Shadowhunter property was mostly communal and although most people had their own personal gear, there was still plenty of standard gear to be handed out. Alec threw a few different sizes at Gideon. “Try them, see which fits best,” Alec ordered, trying to ignore the biting worry about the silence Gideon seemed to be holding onto so tightly onto. In an attempt at restraint, he got his own gear and changed with a learned efficiency borne out of urgency.

Gideon followed suit, following Alec out into the main training room afterwards, eyes examining the rack of weapons. Already, he was learning his favourites and what he could use in practice that wasn’t his signature bow. It was good. Everyone should have their talent, but they had to be proficient in a wide range of weaponry, especially for someone who’s weapon was designed for specific scenarios. Even Izzy, who could use her whip as well as she could use her arm, was skilled with a seraph blade.

“You ready?” Gideon nodded; still silent. Alec let him hold it longer, waiting for the inevitable break. If they were in any way similar, there would come a moment where his thoughts became too much and he’d just…crack.

It came on the third punch. Alec had got his gut again, heaving the air out of him. “I had an argument with M,” he breathed out raggedly, clutching his stomach but recovering as all good Shadowhunters did.

“About what?”

“I-” He stopped, barraging Alec with a flurry of hits that were all easily dodged but passionate all the same. Whatever this argument had been, it had left Gideon enraged, even if that didn’t show on the surface. “I told him I didn’t like that he was keeping secrets.”

“What kind of secrets?” Alec ducked under Gideon’s next blow, coming up on his next breath and throwing Gideon away from him, giving him a chance to speak.

“Everything. All the things I know about him I’ve learnt through someone else. I’ve told him everything and yet I know nothing about him.”

Alec sighed. The problem, although not quite the same, felt familiar. “It will come with time,” was all he could say, having no more reassurances. If M was determined to hold his silence, he would. Even if that meant their relationship fell apart.

“I also said I was scared about his immortality,” Gideon complained, seeking some kind of assurance. Someone, surely, had to agree that M was in the wrong. And if anyone, it would be himself, or at least a version of himself.

Alec winced. “I had the same problem. What did he say?” They circled each other, giving each room to speak before they came to blows again. “He told me I was being selfish.”

“Well, I got childish so I guess there’s that.”

“You argued about it too?”

“Oh, yeah. It was probably one of our worst. And the secrets.”

“He was keeping secrets from you too?”

Alec sighed. “No. I was. Clave orders. We…got past it. But it was bad for a while. He didn’t trust me.”

“How did you change that?”

“I gave him reasons to trust me.” Neither seemed to be fighting anymore, although their feet were still taking them around in circles. “I kept my promises, showed that I cared more about him than the Clave. It took time, a lot of it, but we got there. Magnus, he’s been…betrayed, a lot. By many people. Over so many years. He doesn’t trust easily.”

“M doesn’t trust me. He even admitted it. But he’s the one keeping secrets. And now I feel like I can’t trust him either.”

“He’s ashamed. That’s why. He’ll say it’s not because of that. But it is. He always tells tales of all the fun he had but he was lonely for a long time, he doesn’t like sharing how miserable he was.”

“But how do I even begin to change that?”

“Show him you care.”

“But…I have.”

“Gideon,” Alec chastised, finally stopping his movement. “You denied even being in a relationship with him.”

“That was…before.”

“Before what?”

“We went on a date.” Gideon flushed deeply, eyes trained to the ground, his fists clenched at his sides like he was trying to hold something in.

“That’s a good start. But that’s one date. It needs to be more.”

“But I don’t know how. I’ve never been with anyone. And the only thing I know about is Izzy and Jace’s flings! Which is hardly helpful. And then, I don’t know. Seeing what…happened yesterday…in my dimension, well it reminded me that we don’t live forever. But Magnus does. And eventually, he’s going to forget about me and I-”

“It’s hard. God, I know how hard it is, thinking that he’s going to go on and live another life when I’m gone. But let me remind you, I’m the first person Magnus had ever been married to. And if you’re in any way similar, you’ll be his first too. The love we have is more than anything he’s had before. Maybe even ever have after. But who knows, we can’t control the future. And we can’t let it control our present. Yes, Magnus is immortal. Yes, you have to grow old without him. But you get him now. You get him.”

Gideon swallowed thickly, eyes wide and vulnerable. “But what if I don’t? What if I mess it up? Or if he keeps keeping secrets? Or we’re actually just all wrong. I’ve already screwed up everything-”

“Again: that’s the future. Ignore it. You can’t control it, you can only control the now. So-”

“I found something!” Their heads flung to the door, where Jace was grinning brightly, hands on either side of the doorframe. “Come on!” He urged, racing back out the door, beckoning them after him. There was a moment of vacant stillness. Finally, Alec turned to Gideon. “Fix what’s going on now but stop thinking too far ahead, it doesn’t help. Now come on, we have a job to do.”

It barely took a minute until they were all sat around the console, Jace pointing eagerly at a group of red dots. “They’re flashing,” he explained, “almost as if they’re not quite on this plane of existence but they keep appearing. At first, I thought our teams were killing them but no, the pattern is too common of a demon’s route. My theory is that these are our guys and the journey across dimensions is messing with their demonic magic as they’re further away from their version of Edom, making it hard for them to access their power.”

“It makes sense. Look into it further. Send patrols out. I’ll go talk to Izzy.” Jace nodded and started typing quickly on the keyboard, the quiet clack-clack-clack lost to the buzz of the beginning of a shift.

“You coming?” He asked Gideon.

“Maybe not now.” Ah, right, Izzy would probably be with M.

“Of course. I’ll see you in a bit. And don’t ignore my advice!”

Alec knew Gideon would ignore his advice.

~*~

Everyone had gone home or was on shift, leaving Alec alone in the hall, having stated some nonsense about the time difference in Idris, meaning it was practically work hours for him. Magnus had let him be, although he had almost certainly seen through Alec’s lie, and led M and Gideon - who refused to acknowledge each other’s existence for the meanwhile - back to the apartment. Isabelle had already gone to do her duties whilst shift was in full swing, Jace tagging along, preparing himself for patrol tonight. Tonight was centred around the demons that had entered through the dimensional portal. Their numbers were hard to grasp with them phasing in and out so much but the mass was large, meaning that this could cause a string of murders by the end of the night.

Although, it did raise the question, what had the demons been doing for the last few days?

Unless…well, unless someone was still sending them through.

Alec followed the route that looked like it would take him to the offices, diverting in the second to last corridor, winding his way back around until he reached the infirmary. Obviously, so early on in the shift, it was empty, grey lights casting dim shadows in the corner of the rooms. It only made the portal worse, shrouded in darkness despite its glowing edges. The sparks that surrounded it were almost like knives, piercing the image from the edges, creating a fuzz around the edge that made it almost dreamlike. At least, Alec thought so. But the whole scenario almost was a dream for him.

In the picture, he and Magnus (or, well, M and Gideon) were in Brooklyn, walking through the empty streets, obviously returning from some sort of date. Gideon was in a suit, sharp and obviously not his own choice, though Alec did recognise some personal preference in the getup M no doubt put on him. But, what was even more interesting was M. For Alec, it had been since the beginning. Magnus was beautiful, of course he was, and graceful and brilliant and shining-

Alec could go on forever.

But M was ethereal. His hair did things that seemed impossible, and his eyes shone like beacons on a dark night. His clothes were more outrageous than fashionable yet he owned it as if to say: ‘you’re the weird one, not me’. He was so confident that no one even dared comment on it. And whilst Magnus glittered, M sparkled. Glitter was as liberal as it was profuse, coating his skin (only a shade darker than Magnus’) in a constant shimmer.

Alec would never, ever love anyone more than he did Magnus. But it was impossible to deny the preternatural beauty and grace that was M. With his closed-off heart, ever so different to the Magnus that had already been cracked out of his shell, he was like something out of a fantasy. Which for Alec, who lived in what a mundane would classify as a fantasy world itself, was quite impressive.

It drew his eye, kept him following M even when they were doing the dullest things. A slow guilt crippled his heart at the thought of Gideon, constantly overshadowed by this outrageous man, and Jace, and his parents. He thought back to when he first met Magnus, scared and closed off, and how he’d felt like he could never be as good as Magnus.

Then he’d realised something.

He’d always thought Magnus had been careful with him, always strayed from taking his shadow, let Alec shine in Magnus’ stead. But it wasn’t that. He didn’t shine when Magnus wasn’t there. He shined because Magnus was there. Everyone would stare at Magnus in awe and see the powerful warlock who didn’t shy away from anything life threw at him. And then they’d see the man at his side and think wow, he earned himself a place next to Magnus Bane.

So maybe he wasn’t being overshadowed. Maybe he was standing right there next to him. Or maybe, he didn’t want to. Maybe he wanted to stay in the shadows, content to see M live his life in grandeur, taking the riches but never seeking them. Alec didn’t know, and it probably wasn’t worth speculating, but it was intriguing sometimes to compare himself to Gideon, to see where life could have taken him.

Alec stared back the picture, watched as M took Gideon’s hand and said something with a cryptic smile, a glint in his eyes that spoke vast swathes only to someone who could decipher it. They seemed close, even though this could be only something like three weeks since they came here. It was telling of M and Gideon’s current predicament. Clearly, this dimensional shift was pushing problems forward quicker than they would have been otherwise.

And of course immortality had come up first. It had been similar for him and Magnus. It was something so crucial to Magnus yet so toxic to their relationship. Alec still stayed up at night sometimes, imagining grey hair on his head, maybe his thick hair lost to age. And Magnus, young and vibrant, still wanting to go out and explore.

Sometimes he thought of Peter Pan.

He thought of Wendy, young and happy, being dragged through Neverland at the beck and call of the joyous Peter Pan. But Wendy grew old. And Peter Pan didn’t. And eventually Peter was left behind. Even before death, Wendy had nothing they could both relate to anymore. Nothing they could share. Because one still had the heart of a child. And the other a heart of a woman.

He didn’t want to be Wendy.

And he sure as hell didn’t want Magnus to be Peter Pan.

But it was too late to turn back. His wedding vows had meant something true and sincere: until death do us part. Until death takes me. Until the end of the line. But for Gideon, Alec wondered whether he’d make a different choice, whether he couldn’t live with being Wendy whilst M stayed as Peter Pan.

Maybe they’d find a solution, one Alec never had (apart from the usual ‘vampire’ train of thought that always sent Magnus off on a spiel about doing stupid things). But maybe that was just his wishful thinking, that maybe a version of him out there got to be happy with Magnus forever.

Watching the mirror’s taunting picture, he wondered once again how different they were. How Alec’s life could have gone, or how Gideon’s may still become. How their fights might be the same or entirely different. How their love might be identical or entirely different again.

“You’re thinking too much again.”

“Magnus,” Alec gasped, turning to see Magnus leaning in the doorframe, eyes soft and devoid of anything but a faint brown smudge, the remanence of his earlier makeup. He looked soft like this, vulnerable. It never failed to make Alec feel worthy of something, worthy of this.

“The Clave didn’t need you, did they?” Alec shook his head, afraid to put his lies into words. “Why are you here?”

“I just… wanted to look. At them. What might be different with them.”

“Is this about their fight?”

“Kind of. It just reminded me of everything. You’d know I’d never, ever leave you but- but it’s still painful sometimes, to think of the future.” Magnus made his steps slowly but took Alec’s hands with unbridled ferocity. “Don’t think about the future. Just think about now. How happy we are. Right?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t take it back for anything.”

“Then the future doesn’t matter. Why don’t we just wait until it arrives?”

Alec sighed. “I want to. I really do. But you know how I am.” And Gideon was just the same.

Magnus huffed a laugh and smiled. “Yes, I do. Which is why I’m here to remind you. Come on, let’s go home.” Alec looked over at Magnus, hands still clutched so tightly in his and nodded. Home. Yes, let’s go home.


	6. Where

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, this is finally out, thank god. This is one of those chapters where I'm fairly sure it's objectively alright but subjectively, I hate it. The editing has taken far too long and if I could, I'd just rewrite it. It was originally written when severely ill so it was pretty much a mess. But, I think I've sorted it and I'm hoping this is as exciting as it's meant to be.
> 
> (also, always check for updated tags)
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> -fouryearslater

Over the last few days, Gideon had become accustomed to waking up in the warmth of the loft’s spare bed. He’d gotten used to the way he could sink into the pillows and wrap the silk sheets around his body, protecting him from the non-existent cold. He’d even become comfortable with the hint of another body in his bed, the small buzz that signified there was a limb just inches away from his, sometimes brushing in the night. Just a hand against a hand, or a leg against another.

So, when he woke up on the tough leather of Magnus’ sofa, he thought for a moment that he was back home. The Institute’s beds may have been large, but the mattresses were old, creaky and far more solid than anyone would like. They probably hadn’t been replaced in years. At this point, the leather sofa barely seemed like a downgrade.

Yet it was such a stark difference to before.

Tugging the fluffy blanket over his shoulder, he tried to mimic the silk, tucking himself in to give him some semblance of safety in the open living space. His eyes darted to the windows, squinting at the light peeking over the horizon, flooding through the muslin curtains. It only made it clearer how little this room was designed to be slept in.

Knowing he wouldn’t be falling back asleep any time soon, he stretched upwards and winced when his back made a small click. Getting up was a hassle but routine and soon enough, he was pouring some cereal and guzzling it down as if he only a minute left to live. There was something inherently wrong about eating alone in someone else’s apartment yet his desperation led him to desperate measures and if eating quickly meant getting the hell out of here and away from the inevitable confrontation this morning was leading to, then he would do so.

But he was tricking himself. Even if he could get back into the spare bedroom to change without waking M, he didn’t think he had the strength to walk away before he’d even had the chance to say something. And anyway, he didn’t think the streets of New York wanted to see him parading around his underwear and a threadbare t-shirt.

Which left him here. Waiting. A nervous chill racing down his spine.

Once his bowl was empty, his spoon clacking uselessly against the china as he got the dregs of the milk, he spent the next five minutes washing it, drying it and completely ignoring the dishwasher, just to give himself something to do. Then, he paced. (Don’t think about Max). And paced. (Don’t think about Max). And paced. He bit his nails anxiously, stopping himself only when he reached too far down, hissing as a small drop of blood pooled at the top of his index finger. M had once told him he should work to stop doing it, said it wasn’t a good habit to have.

Gideon moved to his ring finger and continued.

Eventually, he tired himself out and collapsed back onto the leather sofa. He waited, his leg bouncing up and down, over and over and over-

“Good morning?” Alec was standing on the threshold of the room, in the doorway of his own bedroom, a question as much on his face as in his words. “You’re up-,”

“Early. I know.” The sun was barely in the sky.

“Did you-,” He didn’t need to finish that sentence; his eyes were pointedly staring at the ruffled blanket strewn across the sofa and the pillow caught somewhere between the cushions and the coffee table.

“Yeah.”

Lucky for Gideon, Alec didn’t push. There was at least one useful thing about hanging out with your interdimensional twin, they knew your limits. Instead, Alec rifled through the fridge and started to make a small fry up, chopping and frying with an ease borne out of repetitive familiarity. Gideon almost laughed; it was the same familiarity that he’d seen when Alec trained. He winced when the smell began to permeate, regretting his early morning panic, when Magnus finally appeared from the bedroom, looking both ragged and beautiful all at once.

Gideon sighed. M still hadn’t made an appearance.

Magnus made a similar distinct look at the messy, unmade sofa as Alec but, like his husband, he didn’t comment. Huh, Gideon thought. Apparently, you didn’t need to be someone’s practical clone to know their limits.

He should tell his siblings.

Magnus’ eyes passed straight over Gideon and to Alec, where he plastered himself to his back and started picking ingredients off the counter and humming obnoxiously as he ate them. Alec, for his part, didn’t complain and continued his duty, smiling silently at the pan. But, as usual, Magnus eventually grew antsy and made his way back into the living room, taking a spot opposite Gideon on the other sofa, legs resting crossed on the coffee table, arms folded politely in his lap (although did nothing to detract Gideon’s attention from his shirtless-ness).

“Should I wake M up?” It was a carefully crafted question, rife with mines and pitfalls. But it came across almost lax, like he couldn’t care less about the answer. It was very…Magnus. So much for limits, Gideon thought. Aloud, he shrugged.

“Have you two talked yet?” Ah, here we go, the push. The ‘I need to help but you’re being decidedly unhelpful’ push. It wasn’t going to work. Not yet.

“No.”

“Are you going to?” Goddamit, couldn’t he just let it go? Gideon didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to think about M yet. It was so goddamn early and he barely slept and-

He shrugged.

“You should.”

Gideon snapped. “Can you let it go?” It was barely a shout but it was definitely harsher than anything before. Magnus barely looked bothered, like he’d heard that exact tone before and still pushed just as hard but Alec glanced worriedly between them, hurrying to finish plating up their breakfast and approaching them with care. Gideon didn’t have the willpower left to tell Alec he’d already eaten, guiltily picking at the food laid in front of him.

“Gideon,” Alec chastised, “you need to talk to him. This isn’t going to solve itself.” The words sounded clunky coming from Alec, like he wasn’t quite used to giving this sort of advice. Which was fair, he probably wasn’t. But it didn’t make Gideon any more inclined to speak. Except, he had to. They were both staring at him so expectantly, pushing him without even a word-

Goddamit, who in their right minds enjoyed attention?

“He can talk to me if he wants to.”

Magnus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with an air of exaggerated exacerbation. “Look, Gideon,” he stared, hooking on his legs over Alexander’s and pushing his plate to one side for a moment. “You can’t avoid this.”

“I can-,”

“No, you can’t. You are stuck here together. Whether you like it or not, you can’t just ignore each other if you want to have a hope of getting hope.” Gideon went to open his mouth again but it seemed Magnus had had enough. “Look, you both need to see this from the other’s point of view. M is keeping secrets, that’s awful, I get it,” Alec winced, “and that’s something that needs to change. But you also need to recognise that his immortality will always be an issue for him, one that he hated. He doesn’t want you to grow old without him any more than you do. And, being frank, he’s the one that has to live without you when you’re gone. He’d avoided love for so long because of it. Don’t push him away just because of that.”

Gideon was pointedly not looking at Alec and Magnus, eyes intent on his feet. He missed how Magnus’ knuckles shone white as he clutched at Alec’s hand, tight and sapping, like he was mustering energy from their very touch.

“I don’t want to. But it’s…hard. And he doesn’t trust me. How am I supposed to get over it if he doesn’t trust me?”

“He will. You just need to give him reason to. Just as he needs to give you reason to trust him. That’s the only way that this will work, mutual trust and respect. You can’t expect to go from nothing to everything but you have to work on it.”

“I- I don’t know how,” Gideon mumbled, ashamed, fiddling incessantly with his hands.

“How do you want him to show he trusts you? He won’t trust you if you don’t trust him.”

“But I did! And it didn’t work. I trusted him with everything and he gave me nothing!” Gideon’s eyes finally found Magnus’, ablaze in the morning sunlight, the blue like a rioting ocean.

“Did you? Let me ask you one thing. If it came down to it, if you had to choose Jace or M-,”

“You can’t ask me that.”

“So it’s Jace,” Magnus confirmed with a sigh. “He’s your parabatai, there’s no getting away from that. But if M’s always second choice-,”

“That is not the point! That has nothing to do with trust. I can’t trust one just as much as the other.”

“It’s not. But I’m going to go ahead and speak on M’s behalf here. He probably feels secondary in your life. And to build the type of trust a relationship is built on, that’s just not going to work.” Gideon didn’t have anything to say to that. He didn’t know what to think, never mind what to say. “Anyway, I think that’s enough pep-talks today, don’t you think?” Well, that certainly feels more familiar, Gideon thought. The frilly charm to cover up the anguish and embarrassment underneath. Lightness to obscure the hidden depth of emotion underneath. The inability to be serious for too long without fearing that he’d given away too much. The impossibility of showing vulnerability-

The reminder made him angry. It was clear enough now that Magnus trusted him just as much as M did. Which was to say: not much at all. The anger almost blinded him, giving him half the idea to abandon Magnus’ words altogether and cling onto this festering hate. But somehow, he couldn’t. No matter what, this thing with M…

He held out hope for it.

Maybe it was naivety, or the desperation of a first relationship, but he felt an anchored hope that things would get better again. It didn’t matter how angry he was, he wanted M. Even now, faced with the slowly dawning realisation of just how bad yesterday had turned out to be, he couldn’t help but put faith in M’s intentions. He wanted this to work, so much, he- he-

He loved M.

Shit.

He loved M.

So he’d fight for this. Nothing bad had happened, he tried to convince himself, they just weren’t on the same page. This, this would work. It would. It would.

A day, he thought to himself. He’d give it a day. He’d calm down; he’d let M calm down too, and then he’d try to talk about it. Lack of communication skills or not, Gideon would do it. He had to. Just not yet. Not whilst the pain was still fresh. Not whilst he was still liable to anger.

His train of thought was cut off by the creak of the bedroom door. The spare, not the masters, a worryingly ominous precursor to M’s appearance. And, well, an appearance it was. Fully dressed, unlike everyone else, he looked…he looked just like M. Whilst he was still stealing Alec’s clothes (making fewer and fewer adjustments to them as time went on), his outfits could only be so bold. Gideon hadn’t yet got the guts to ask him what happened to conjuring his outfits. It sure was a hell of a lot better than borrowing Alec’s. Or just going shopping. There wasn’t anything stopping him. But it wasn’t the outfit that drew the attention, not much anyway. It was just a black jumper and black jeans combo, even if it stuck to every possible area of skin with as much attachment as a desperate boyfriend. It was the makeup. In contrast to the darkness of his clothes, it was a supernova. A copious amount of gold glitter was strewn artfully over his face and hair, matching the sparkling gold of his nails. He looked, in the best way possible, like a bottle of Champagne.

What was most imbittering was just how good it looked. If the same had been done on Gideon (though he’d never allow it), he’d look like a bad prostitute or dressing up for Halloween. But that was just what M did. He wore something entirely outrageous, that would look stupid on any other human being in the country, and make it look absolutely stunning.

Surrounded by the glitter, his cat eyes were lined with thick black eyeliner. The Egyptian eyeliner looked nothing but cruel, a dagger-like spike running from his eye to his cheek, like a sharpened blade ready to attack.

Gideon turned his eyes to the floor and tried to keep a cap on the sudden bout of anger. Having M look as flawless as ever when all Gideon could feel was anguish and confusion was enough to extinguish any positive thoughts in his mind.

He kept his eyes on the floor, ever the coward in matters of the heart. Loyal to a fault, he’d heard before, loyal to the point where he couldn’t even stand up for himself. It was like a perverted deference, borne out of nothing that wasn’t his own fault.

“Good morning,” Magnus finally said, breaking the prevalent silence. M’s eyes flickered towards him and Alec, but it was only passing. He seemed intently focused on the horizon, head tilted up and away from their sights. “Good morning,” M replied, almost deadpan, a lazy drawl to his voice, like he couldn’t care less about what anyone in the room said or did or thought. He’d made the domain his own with just a flick of his eyes and a stubborn set to his jaw.

“You alright?” Alec piped up, forcefully biting through whatever it was still lingering in the room.

“I’m fine, thank you.” Gideon recognised the farce for what it was. It was common, and as painful as ever. The decorous way he could speak, trained to perfection throughout the centuries where it mattered more than anything. How he could twist his kind words to make you feel belittled; like nothing under his sharp, bloody gaze.

Gideon scoffed. He didn’t mean to. Or maybe he did. But it was loud and clear in the empty vacuum of nothingness. Alec and Magnus’ eyes frantically darted to him, slightly too wide to be comfortable but M chose only to drift his eyes towards Gideon, not even bothering to turn his body to match, like he was noticing a stain on an otherwise pristine wall. “Do you have something to say?”

Gideon gulped. He wasn’t good with words. He couldn’t battle to and fro like this. So he went with the ever-awkward, forcefully brazen approach that M so despised. “You’ve put your walls back up,” he stated simply. It sounded stupid, he noted a second afterwards, a blush burning under his skin. Well, it was too late to go back now.

“I don’t think I know how to put up a wall. One of the few things I haven’t learnt in this very long life of mine. Although there was that time-,”

“You know what I mean,” Gideon suddenly spat, fed up of the games. “And you know perfectly well what you’re doing.” His eyes finally made their way off the floor, staring M down with a force that could only be magnified in the heat of a battle.

Well, M was half-demon, wasn’t he? It shouldn’t have been a surprise they were fighting.

(In only a couple of years would Gideon feel guilty for thoughts like that. He’d remember them with bitterness, wondering how he could have been so stupid, so brainwashed, so-)

M took a step forward. “I don’t think I do. Would you like to inform me of what’s going through that tiny little Nephilim brain?”

“Little? What the-,” Gideon fumbled for his words but they were tangled, lost in the knots of his own tongue. The last thing he’d expected was to hear that. He’d heard Magnus give thirty-minute rants on bigotry and to throw that back-

No.

No, that was-

That wasn’t-

Gideon stood up, fists clenched, teeth bared. “Don’t you dare. I get that you’re angry, Magnus, but don’t you fucking dare.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

It hit him. Right then. The all-consuming knowledge that this wasn’t right, that it had to end. Because Magnus didn’t think he was anything but a dumb Shadowhunter, ready to play along with his games. An innocent bystander to be bullied for his blood by being tossed through these games.

He’d had that enough from his own people.

“You’re going to do this? Really? You’re really so bitter that you’ll treat me like a child again to try and…and belittle me.” Gideon tucked himself into M’s space, eyes frozen in an icy rage. “I’m sick of this. I open up and you use it against me. You know,” he ended, waving a dismissive hand, “I thought this was going to be fine. That we’d talk and clear this all up. But you’re just like the rest of them. You’re everything you don’t want to be. Goodbye, Magnus, this is over.”

Gideon rushed into the bedroom, threw on a pair of workout clothes that were obviously Magnus’, if the silk was anything to go by and fled without looking back, ignoring Alec’s worried call.

As soon as he was outside, he began to run, feet pounding the pavement with violent slaps, a perfect rhythm to match the dangerous palpitations of his heart. He ran for miles, making it all the way to Central Park with a recurrently applied stamina rune, ignoring the gaping bystanders. Oops, forgot his glamour then.

Well, can’t get done by the Clave when you’re not under their jurisdiction.

By the time he stopped, he could barely see the tops of skyscrapers in the distant, only the bright sun burning through the green canopy above him. He sat down on a bench, wringing his hands as he desperately blinked at the horizon.

And he wept.

He wanted to run back and apologise, take it all back. But he knew he couldn’t. He knew he wouldn’t. The anger still ran deep. The offence at M’s words poisoning his heart with bitter cruelty. How dare he. Even as tears streamed down his cheeks, Gideon saw his knuckles whiten as his anger permeated throughout his body. How dare he insult Gideon like that just to make him feel pain. How dare he dredge up old emotions that he’d trusted M not to touch.

Gideon had always struggled with self-respect. He’d always struggled to put his pain ahead of others. But this…

He looked it as objectively as he could. M was angry, fairly so. But Gideon was mourning, mourning his child brother and M had the gall to insult him like he meant nothing, treat him just as the rest of them did even though he’d promised he wouldn’t. Belittle him to exacerbate his pain. It felt now like it consumed him. Every crevice of his worn-out body was tainted by agony and loss and grief. It was like a blanket that didn’t just warm, but burned, heavy on his shoulders, trapping him in this suffocating mantel of emptiness.

Gideon-

He couldn’t-

He just-

He didn’t know what to do.

He’d ended it, that much was clear. Without a thought or planning or verifiable reason. He’d finally untethered himself; he’d thrown himself from his comfort zone in the worst way possible and abandoned himself at sea.

But he wasn’t floating; he was barely keeping his head above the surface.

And the more he panicked, the more he sunk. He couldn’t even manage a breath. He could only focus on the endless beating of his heart. The quiet b-dum b-dum b-dum that rapidly pounded against his open chest. Ragged breaths intermittently made it through the stifled panic but it wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t-

He couldn’t-

Oh, fuck.

He tried to breathe deep, slower. He clutched his chest and focused on the slow rise and fall of his chest but it didn’t seem to work. There was only fuzziness; his world was shifting to the side and-

He gave in. He let the lack of breath consume him, back hitting the bench with a thud. He let the panic take hold, losing himself to the cruel pictures his mind spiralled him into.

“Excuse me-,” Gideon shot up, eyes as wide as if he were waking from a nightmare. He was.

“I- I-,”

“Sir, are you alright? I just-,”

“I don’t- I can’t-,”

“Just calm down. Breathe.”

He hated that. He knew he had to breathe. Why didn’t they understand that he couldn’t?

“I can’t- I can’t-“

“Follow mine.” He desperately tried to match this person’s breathing. He hated that it worked. That it took him down from this hazy cloud of disillusion. “I’m-,”

“Is there anyone I can call?”

“I’m- I’m fine.”

“Maybe it’s best you go home. Do you have a way of getting there?”

He almost laughed. Home. No, he really didn’t have a way home. If he did, he would have been long gone from this hellhole. “Yes,” he breathed out, with a perfect mask. He’d learnt to lie at the age of five. He’d never faulted since.

Or, well, so he thought.

“Can you call them, or should I?”

“No- No, it’s fine. I’ll-,”

“I think you should-,”

Gideon ran off. He focused on the pounding of his feet and not the forlorn expression on the invasive stranger’s face. He knew running away from his problems would never solve them but he found that he didn’t care.

If running meant he could forget, then so be it.

~*~

Alec and Magnus had gone to the Institute, leaving M to look after the apartment (which was stupid, frankly, because they all knew that no one needed to look after the apartment for the few hours they’d be gone). M didn’t particularly care, though. He didn’t think he cared about anything anymore.

The numbness was familiar.

And self-inflicted.

But wasn’t it always?

He sat in the same spot Gideon had been half an hour ago, hand resting on the blanket he’d slept under. It felt like a sharpened knife now. Who would have thought that one night on the sofa would have destroyed everything, crumbling in from its very foundations?

M didn’t think he’d care this much.

A few dates, an inter-dimensional adventure and a seemingly beatable argument. They were barely even in a relationship, but it didn’t matter. They’d fallen at the first hurdle and only then had M realised how much he’d been placing on it. Because as it fell, he felt everything else fall alongside it.

It was maudlin, and overdramatic, but that was everything M was. He couldn’t find it within himself to break out of his usual cycle and fix this. It felt better to wallow.

He didn’t think Gideon would give up so easily.

Or so suddenly.

It felt like a punch to the gut.

M was confident, in his self and in his persona. Centuries of life did that to you. But there would always be the place in the back of his brain that would spout self-doubt, largely ignored yet ever looming. Now, it screamed. It told him all his faults, where it went so wrong and why Gideon would just-

Would-

Oh god.

M was confused, stuck in a delirium of emotions he couldn’t decipher despite centuries of practice. He’d always been prepared for the inevitable: that he and Gideon weren’t meant to be. After all, he was Nephilim and M was a child of Lilith. But he’d-

He thought he’d be the one to do it.

Gideon was scared, and it was new, but he was loyal. Even when denying their relationship, he came to M’s aid at every possible opportunity. When it came to closeted emotions, M was far worse. He was the one who hadn’t opened up. He was the one who was distancing himself, no matter how Gideon tried to frame it.

He’d thought it would be him.

Now he was left reeling.

No, he wasn’t. He was- No, he was. He was. It was-

It was confusing.

He couldn’t lay blame on either of them, because he knew they both had done their part. He couldn’t lay blame on their current dimensional situation because their problems were nothing even related. He couldn’t say he was surprised nor at ease with the situation because he didn’t fucking understand what was happening.

He went to the Institute.

He managed to avoid the path of anyone he knew. He had dressed down for the occasion, wearing Alec’s clothes in their unfitted entirety. And anyway, changing them was starting to…well, he was tired.

It meant he blended in. He’d kept the eyeliner but he kept his head down. The black meant he could be any other Shadowhunter, especially when he covered his hands, meaning his neck was the only rune-able area on show. And, although not that common, some Shadowhunters did prefer to keep their neck bare of runes. Usually the spies. Uncommon. Shadowhunters did have a thing for showing off their murder.

Then again, in this universe, the Shadowhunters seemed to have far fewer runes, period. Which, by default, meant not that many actually had them on their necks. You didn’t show your hand to prove you were finally of age, you didn’t scar your body in every place possible to gain the maximum you could from your angel saviours. Here, it was like they were…a little aid. Not vital. But there. They were still prevalent but they weren’t the same flashy show of domination they were at home.

Home. He tried not to think about it.

He made it the infirmary without bumping into anyone, glad to see it vacant of anyone. There was only so long he could hide his eyes from prying Shadowhunters. That he knew of, Gideon was the only person who sat in here anymore. Most injuries could be fixed with an iratze, so there wasn’t much need for the infirmary. Not on a day to day basis, anyway. And, hopefully, Gideon was still god knows where. Suffering.

No, M didn’t mean that.

He’d never wish that on anyone.

Never.

He pushed the thought aside; thinking of Gideon right now just… hurt. Instead, he approached the mirror and took a seat in front of it, just as he’d seen…him do so recently. There wasn’t any reason to, only the expectation that he would be here for longer than he expected.

As gracefully as he could muster, he crossed his legs and tried to go through a few routine breathing exercises to put his heart rate back to normal. It was ironic, that a warlock’s heartbeat was so slow yet it still pulsed just as fast when their emotions were tilted.

When he was finally ready, he looked into the mirror and-

Oh.

He’d psyched himself up to see him and Gideon happy, maybe on that vacation they seemed to finally be doing. But, no. Instead, it was-

It seemed the mirror really did reflect.

Except, as usual, the picture was a grotesque distortion of real life. Because now, it wasn’t Gideon walking away. It was him. Head held high, tears in his eyes and an air of impermeability, M was striding away from a crying man. And he didn’t even know why.

He tried to read the distraught lines on their faces yet found nothing but agony and loss. Whatever happened, they’d either missed it or the mirror had deemed it not important enough to show. It only showed this.

Suddenly, M understood why Alec wore jumpers the way he did. Desperately, he brought the sleeves over his hands, hiding himself away in this open prison, pretending he was a child again who still had his mother and not this bloody mark that ended every bit of innocence he had left.

The worst bit of all, though, was that this confirmed it. They weren’t meant to be. Besides one lucky version of them in this goddamn hellhole of a dimension, it seemed that they just weren’t made to succeed. Magnus and Alec were something. M and Gideon were not. They were nothing but doomed to fail. Fragile, dangerous and impossible.

Should have known.

Magnus sighed, ignoring the pressure behind his eyes as he watched the mirror move and shift. It followed Gideon, not him, for which he was thankful. He felt useless enough as it was without having to watch his counterpart fall apart.

Because he would. He just knew he would.

He’d been watching the mirror in random intervals. Nowhere near as much as Gideon, but he found himself staring at their counterparts from time to time with an ephemeral interest. He saw how happy they were. They were the real continuation of him and Gideon. Whilst it had only been days here, it had been weeks there. They had grown a relationship, had gone on a holiday (M wished he had seen that, wished he could have known what it was like) and smiled like no one was watching.

They’d gotten so much further. And they’d had so much more to lose. And his counterpart had just lost it. So of course he would break down. M was barely holding it together now and frankly, he still had a chance to rectify the past two days. It was early days yet and no matter the despair he felt, he couldn’t ignore the part of his logical mind that shouted at him about communication.

Yet now, he wasn’t so sure. If they couldn’t make it work there then what was the point? He was too angry to apologise now anyway but…in day? In two? Maybe a week? Would he want to rectify it? Everything now pointed to no, because it would only lead to later heartbreak. It would only lead to the scattered remains of his already tattered heart.

M had long since learnt that having something for a time was often worth losing it; it was the only way to live an immortal life without getting caught up in the endless despair of grief. But it was a lot easier to face that when you didn’t know you were going to lose it. When you didn’t have to see the future and watch yourself walk away. When you could live in the present, actively destroying images of your own future. Of course, that had its own pitfalls. A lack of commitment, exhaustion, bitterness.

He tried to distract himself by observing the mirror, watching as Gideon arrived home. It felt almost surreal, to know what this Gideon was doing but not his own. How he could witness this moment without being told he could. It felt violating, to an extent. Yet, like any good reality TV show, he couldn’t drag his eyes away.

He watched as Gideon fell into his sister’s arms and began to cry only to draw himself together and pretend like nothing was wrong. Like the good little Nephilim he was, he went to work with overeager focus, ignoring the blatant worried looks around him. M couldn’t hear it but he was sure they were asking what had happened. Where he’d been. Why he was crying.

The picture changed again. It was just Isabelle and Alec again now. She looked angry, arms flailing wildly as Gideon stared intently at his bedroom floor. He couldn’t tell what she was shouting but he knew for sure that Gideon didn’t want to say anything back. She didn’t seem to care, grabbing her phone and screaming a vicious rant of spontaneous threats into it with the ferocity of any vengeful Nephilim.

She never paused for breath. Voicemail, then? To him, M would presume. Watching Isabelle flail with such indignity should almost have been funny if it wasn’t so pertinent. Not that it mattered anymore. Yet again, the picture was changing, turning into murky darkness with little to the picture but spoiled ink and muted red.

His eyes focused and captured the silhouette of a shaded figure, merely a lump in what he could just about distinguish as a bed. The pain then struck like lightning, seizing his heart and turning the remains to dust. It made sense, after all this time, that Magnus’ body would stay in perfect condition whilst his heart crippled: turning to dust and shadows just as his body was meant to.

He watched the mirror avidly, trapped in his own twisted curiosity. Watched as Gideon lay on his bed, curtains drawn, engulfed in darkness. There was a witchlight in his hand but it was shrouded by his clenched fist, illuminating only the red tone of his skin. Gideon was staring at it, blue eyes turned a violent shade of red. And he was sobbing. Heart-wrenching sobs that wracked his body, tears flooding his cheeks like a dirty river, mouth gasping for air as he desperately tried to suck life back into his body. Then M realised the reason for the witchlight at all. It was cutting his hand. He was gripping it so tight that blood had bloomed at its sharpest corners.

Gideon was hurting himself because of him.

Because he no longer had him.

M thought of Gideon now, god knows where doing god knows what. Panic flooded his system and dialled his mind to a hundred but he tried to ignore it. He just-

He couldn’t help, not yet. And it was barely anything. It was like it was-

Oh god, if Gideon was hurting himself.

M looked back at the mirror, watched as the prone body finally dropped the witchlight onto the floor, plunging the room back into true darkness. M could barely see Gideon anymore.

Yet, even in the darkness, he could see him shake.

~*~

“It’s not going to work,” Izzy announced, dropping the piece of paper she was working on onto the desk with an air of finality. “The mirror skipped over the entire holiday. And if anything else is to go by, it should have shown at least one picture from their trip. The mirror isn’t following time normally. It’s…skipping. It’s showing what it wants to show, it’s-,”

“Following the rules of magic, not science.”

“But magic and science shouldn’t be that far apart! Magic is just a way to control science, I don’t-,”

“Time magic is something even I don’t understand, it’s no surprise we can’t understand this,” Magnus comforts. “But it’s fine. It’s not unexpected. This just means the time element is more important than ever.”

“I guess it didn’t matter anyway. It’s not as if we knew when to send them through even if we could figure out how fast the mirror is going. It’s not like they’re nice enough to show us a clock. It’s just…I don’t know, odd. If it’s not showing images at set intervals, that means the pictures are chosen. Or, at least, have meaning. That must be important. It’s like it’s being tampered with. I just don’t get it.”

“You’re not the only one. But I’m going to bet on magical influence’s effect on time. Timelines are complicated and theoretical, always in fiction more than reality. Magic could do anything or nothing to time. We just don’t know.”

Isabelle sighed. “I guess. It just feels…I don’t know.” That was a lie. Magnus knew she knew exactly how she was feeling. But Magnus didn’t call her out on it; it wasn’t his place to push her. They were friends, yes, but they were more shopping buddies than they were deep, emotionally-bonded friends. And Magnus was okay with that, you always needed those kinds of people in your life, and he had others for the rest of it.

Like Alec.

He smiled numbly. He worried about Alexander. This morning was…tough on him. Watching a version of yourself tell a version of your husband to basically fuck off was enough to mess with your psyche. Seeing a version of yourself shout racist comments at your husband’s counterpart was no better.

Magnus tried to put it out of mind (though he just kept thinking about Alexander’s face and-)

“Have you looked through my notes from Meliorn’s visit?”

“Not in detail but I read them.” I was too busy speaking to Alexander. And then escaping the toxic atmosphere of my apartment. But let’s not speak about that.

“Okay, then you’ve got the gist of it.”

“More or less.”

“Okay. Well, I was hoping you could explain some more on what he said about dimensional theory. It just…it didn’t seem to make much logical sense.”

“That’s because it doesn’t. Like most Seelie’s, I think he was being more cryptic than honest. He’s helping us out of personal obligation but I’m going to assume the Seelie queen doesn’t want the Shadowhunters to have her knowledge. Most likely, we’re going to have to decipher what he said to find what he really meant. Because, really, when he got to that analogy of the wings, I think he was just messing with us.”

Isabelle huffed, flipping open her notebook, pen between her lips. “Guess it’s time to get started then.”

~*~

“Fuck,” Alec breathed.

“Did the Head of the New York Institute just swear?” Jace gasped, though the look on his face meant he couldn’t be further from serious. Alec had gone through a phase of profuse swearing in his mid-teens and sometimes he thought that Jace was actually more surprised that Alec had stopped swearing more than the fact that he sometimes still did.

“Shut up, this is important.” The words were spoken lightly, if not sternly enough to gather Jace’s attention. “Is this for definite?”

“It has to be. I don’t see what else it could be.”

“So we were right.”

“Yup.” His tone was light, yet the underlying meaning dark, as was the dangerous glint in his eyes. They had confirmation now: demons hadn’t just been sent through, they were being sent through. The portal was still open, wherever it was, and it was taking demons from their dimension and putting them in this one. So far, mundane death counts hadn’t risen massively but there had been a significantly bigger effort on the Shadowhunter’s part to track them down. Hunts had increased exponentially and most staff didn’t get nights off anymore. It was all hands on deck and would likely remain so until they could find a solution to M and Gideon’s problem. No doubt fixing that would fix this.

Irritatingly, he didn’t think fixing this would fix that.

“Have you got a source yet?”

“Not exactly. We know it’s likely somewhere in Brooklyn but the demons seem to be spawning in different places which doesn’t make much sense. Then again, when have any of our problems made sense?”

“Think you’re right. But look into it. That could be the key. And, if we’re lucky, might even be a solution to our other problem.” One of many, he wanted to state. He didn’t.

“You think we can send them back through the portal the demons are coming through?”

“Maybe. We’d need to check it doesn’t go to Edom or somewhere similar, even if they could technically survive there. And anyway, from what I’ve heard, they’d definitely be stuck there, M or not.” Jace still grimaced at the mention of M but didn’t do much more. They hadn’t seen each other much of late. Which, given the current circumstances, was probably for the best.

“Well I hope so, I liked when we only had one you in this dimension.”

“Gideon’s not so bad.”

“Never said he was the main problem.” Alec barked a laugh but it sounded unnatural even to him. He knew he’d been acting off since he came in this morning and he was eternally grateful that Jace hadn’t mentioned it. But it seemed his brother had a quota for not-meddling, and it seemed to be up. “You okay?”

“Fine.”

“Of course. Now tell me what’s up.”

“I said I’m fine.”

“And I agreed. Now, what’s bugging you?”

“You’re awful.”

“I know, so speak up.”

Alec couldn’t help the small smile that pervaded his lips. Jace’s antics were ever-annoying yet endlessly amusing. Not many people seemed to agree with him on that, though. Probably a parabatai thing. “It’s not me. It’s Gideon and M.”

Jace rolled his eyes. Yet, through some force of magic, he stayed quiet.

“They…I think they broke up.”

“They what?!”

“Broke up. I know, it’s…sudden. But they had an argument yesterday and then the blowout of it this morning was worse. Gideon was being…stubborn and M, just, well ends up Gideon’s not the only one who’s a little bigoted.”

“What did M say?”

“Something about tiny little Nephilim brains. Nothing much, especially not compared to what he’s been told before, probably. But it was…Gideon was just trying to get through to him in that awkward way that I do and M didn’t have a right to say something like that because of it. And I don’t know but I just…”

“Care?”

“Yes. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because Magnus and I got our chance, so it seems that it’s unfair that they didn’t, especially because it happened here. I was watching the mirror last night and they were planning a holiday. They weren’t arguing. They were just together. And look what we’ve done to them here. I feel…is it bad that I feel obligated to make sure Gideon is okay? I struggled so much and I don’t- I don’t want him to have to go through the same thing.”

“That’s understandable. But it’s impossible. You can’t control him, or his situation. You can only help.”

“Didn’t seem to go too well this morning.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. It was probably worse for Magnus. He gave some proper advice and then saw it blow up in his face about five minutes later, I barely intervened.”

“Still, this isn’t on you.”

“I know that. It just feels…I don’t know, sad. It’s just made me feel off today.”

“I get you. So, how about we focus on this?” Jace says, motioning to the screen. “This is something you can help with.”

~*~

M got home without anyone seeing him. Only then did he understand the true extent of Gideon’s disguises. The outfit alone seemed to draw people’s eyes away from him; it was everything M went against. His outfits were designed to make people look, not for people’s eyes to purposefully pass over, like he was just another part of the background. It was like being an extra in your own life.

The apartment was still vacant (where the hell had Gideon gone for so long?); not even a cat in sight. And now more than ever did M truly miss Chairman Meow. He was a constant companion, no matter how viciously stuck up he was. Someone to fill up the vacant hole of, well, everything.

His home.

His heart.

His life.

It was melodramatic and maudlin but it felt like a lingering presence, which was painfully ironic for something that by definition wasn’t there at all. It made M trudge through his life, walls up and steadfast, impenetrable even to the most dedicated.

Except they hadn’t been recently. Gideon hadn’t even torn them down, he’d just been there and Magnus had wanted to tear them down himself. He’d never quite got there, but he wanted to. He wanted to show Gideon the vacancy; he wanted to let Gideon fill it.

And then Gideon had ended it, because he wasn’t quick enough.

He wasn’t goddamn quick enough!

He sulked, ignoring the sofa entirely to sit on the floor in front of the TV, staring vacantly at the dark screen. He could see himself in it, devoid of his accessories; the only distinction from anyone else was his blatantly gold cat eyes. They shimmered in the half-arsed reflection and for the first time in a long time, M couldn’t stand it anymore.

He glamoured them.

He let himself be invisible. He watched himself wash into the black until he was no longer a staple of beauty but a maudlin silhouette. Nothing but a blankly staring vacancy.

The glamour flickered.

Oh no, not this again.

Please, not this-

The glamour fell.

He couldn’t even hold a glamour anymore. No, because this dimension was taking his goddamn magic with it. He hadn’t told anyone, determined to keep his pride but this was becoming intolerable. He wasn’t just weakening, he was losing his magic altogether. It was seeping out of him like viruses seeped energy. He could barely make fumes. With a click of his fingers, he produced a single spark of blue, an indescribably bad mimic of his usual power.

He was the son of Asmodeus, part of Edom’s royal family, and he couldn’t even produce a proper spark.

Shame blurred his rationality as he continued to click, desperate to produce a flame. Anything. Anything that meant that he wasn’t actually losing this, the last piece of himself, something so important that without it, he didn’t know he could still live. His magic was a part of his immortality. Maybe not its entirety but it was a reason for it. Take that away, and centuries of his life would catch up to him. When it faded, it was likely he would die.

No matter what, he didn’t want to die.

He’d almost done that once; he’d felt the regret when Camille had taken him down from that godforsaken bridge. Never again. He didn’t care if he lived life with a hole in his chest, if he lost love after love after love, if he couldn’t even move anymore.

He wanted to live.

And he was finally dying.

Now he focused on it, he could feel the panic inside him, tempered only by centuries of practice. He implemented every technique he had. Yet it was useless. The panic bubbled up and he found himself cowering, desperately clicking over and over and over-

He was losing everything.

He didn’t know what to do.

He had to tell someone. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t. Because there wasn’t a fix to this. People didn’t just lose their magic. Not without intervention from Edom-

The same kind of intervention that could allow people to cross dimensions, just as demons did from Edom to Earth.

Shit!

Shit, shit, SHIT!

Uncaring of his current state, he threw himself to his feet. Fuck! He wished he could portal but without a damn flicker of his magic, he couldn’t. His reserves were still there, he could feel them, but it was like they had been locked away in a chest and he didn’t have the key. What was left was only what would keep him alive. For now.

He ran.

Out of the door. To the subway station. Flying down the stairs like a madman, waiting with as much patience as a goddamn animal and fleeing the train with the desperation of the starved. He made it to the Institute in about forty-five minutes. Far too long by his estimations.

As soon as he was inside, he asked for Alec.

‘He’s on patrol.’

Shit! ‘Magnus?’

With Isabelle in the weapon’s room.

Okay, that was…

That was fine. He could tell them.

He didn’t need a guide anymore, knowing the parts of the Institute he needed well enough to navigate them with unsettling ease. He flew around two corners and slammed the doors open with as much force as he could muster without his magic. No matter what, he was always going to make a dramatic entrance.

Magnus and Isabelle span around in an instant, staring at him, shock tangible. Well, he was a sight to see. In all black, makeup removed and sweating like a pig. But for the first time in a long time (oh god, today was too many firsts), he really didn’t care.

“I think I know what happened,” he breathed, “why Gideon and I are here.” He panted, catching his breath before he finally said: “it’s my father. My father sent us here.”


	7. Are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while. In a desperate attempt to keep up motivation for this fic, I've stopped editing it, only proof-reading. Sorry if the quality is a little bit less but I really want to finish a fic for once.
> 
> Thanks for all the support :)
> 
> -fouryearslater

“What did you say?”

“My father is the reason we’re here. I don’t know why, or how, but it’s him. I’m sure of it.” M was still haggard but Magnus and Isabelle suddenly looked nothing but composed. Isabelle fired off questions: how did he know, why did he think that, what did they need to do? M gave them all the information he could about his father instead. What he was like. How he worked. How he could barely be further from the Asmodeus they knew in this dimension.

Here, Asmodeus was a demon but he was a father too, no matter how awful he was at that role. The man that M knew, had only barely encountered, was nothing less than a Prince of Hell. Ruthless, cruel and had no empathy for blood relations. He was immortal and almost indestructible, he could have children whenever he felt like it, all with powers like Magnus’ own.

“We have to tell everyone.”

“I’ll go get Alec and Jace,” Magnus said, pushing past M, leaving Isabelle to collapse against her desk, face buried in her hands. M watched her, his focus nonsensically persistent. Maybe it was a distraction, just something to bleed him of this vicious fear warping his sense of reality. Maybe it was interest. Did they fear his father too? Did they fear him now? They always knew Asmodeus was his father and it hadn’t caused the usual horror but to know his father was _his_ Asmodeus. That was something else entirely. That’s knowing someone is half monster, someone who should struggle to remove their demonic nature from their very being.

It wasn’t like that. M knew it wasn’t like that. But it didn’t mean he didn’t doubt it sometimes. No matter how powerful, he couldn’t read people’s minds. He didn’t know that his brain wasn’t a dark void in comparison to the Nephilim, maybe even his friends. He didn’t know that each passing whim wasn’t a lone experience, that no one else got the urge to push, or jump or scare. That no one else sometimes convinced themselves that murder was okay, just to get rid of the guilt.

So he watched Isabelle; he watched carefully as she peeled herself upwards and locked eyes with him. He couldn’t spot an ounce of fear. “We’ll fix this.” No, he could only see compassion. Surprise swept him off his feet and it must have shown in his still glamoured eyes. Isabelle approached carefully, placing her hand on his shoulder, almost comically stretched upwards to do so. “You aren’t your father. You’re as much his enemy as we are. You’ve already said this. And if this is your father’s play at work, it was likely aimed at you. You’re the victim here.”

M sucked in a breath, lips almost trembling. But he fought for his composure, tried to forgot how he’d forgone his armour, focusing on the stupidly long sleeves that made him feel both weak and protected, like a child hiding under a blanket for security. “Thank you,” he finally breathed and, knowing his discomfort, Isabelle just nodded.

They waited in silence, although barely for long. Magnus returned with Alec by his side, Jace following behind eagerly, both of them in their patrol gear, weapons hanging from their sides. “No sign of Gideon,” he stated morosely.

“Should we look for him?”

“Let’s talk about this first. I’ll go find him afterwards. I don’t want to waste time.”

“How do we know this is Asmodeus?” Alec was quick to ask, rounding the room until he was next to Isabelle, examining M with interest, though no surprise. So he’d seen him like this before: interesting. Magnus looked marginally more appalled to see the plain black clothes but didn’t comment. He wouldn’t. Not at a time like this.

“I-“ M stopped himself before he could even begin, the cold fist of Fear clutching at his heart. His father was a figure that endlessly loomed over his life, the swathing darkness that swallowed him into its vast abyss. Yet, to admit to that felt like a weakness, a boundary he wasn’t willing to cross. He couldn’t let anyone have the upper hand, not ever. He held his secrets to his chest like a poker hand, his face as dead as his mother. He was dying. But he didn’t think he could let anyone know. “The portal, I looked at it.” They were going to know it was a lie, but it felt like enough in the moment; he had until they saw the portal and saw that none of his evidence matched. Because of course he had no clue about the portal, but lie he could. He’d been doing it for centuries, and was well versed in the many arts of it. It was a hobby of his. Always had been.

“You did? But-“

“I asked where your patrol was and portaled over.” Never mind that he couldn’t even keep up a glamour, much less create a portal, even if it was easier in this dimension. “Thought I’d meet you there. But I beat you to it. I- I found where the demons were coming through. One of them, at least. It was like…a rift. The only other time I’ve seen it is when I had run-ins with my father. I can’t think it’s anyone’s powers but his. And it adds up. The magic required to transpose one dimension to another can only be done by someone who does it regularly. Particularly those in Edom.” He couldn’t help but feel like the lies were obvious, rife with uncharacteristic stuttering and pauses. His twitchy eyes searched their faces to spot any semblance of doubt but whatever he saw, it certainly didn’t look like doubt. Maybe fear, intrigue, panic. Magnus was so trapped in his own cage of fear that he could barely make out the hazy fog of the other’s emotions.

Still, the lies had been easy. Close enough to the truth to not raise suspicious but still entirely formulated. His father appeared; M didn’t think he’d ever seen him actually portal anywhere, never mind what those portals looked like. And whilst it was assumed demons had a way of crossing dimensions (hence their presence on Earth), there was no actual evidence as to what allowed them to cross.

Although, he did have evidence his father did this (if not him, then another Prince of Hell, but he can’t imagine he’d done anything to piss any of them off) so maybe he had just solved the riddle. The Princes of Hell were attacking Earth, opening rifts for demons to run through. And the Angels had produced warriors to protect it.

The attack of Hell on Heaven had already begun, the intermediaries were just unaware of it.

“That doesn’t necessarily mean my father, but it has to be a powerful demon and the only one with the motive to target me would be my father. He may not have any care for me, but he does see me as an asset. I can’t tell what this accomplishes but it’s no doubt something.” He was clearly losing his magic for a reason.

“What can we do?” Alec asked, eyebrows drawn inwards.

“Nothing. Not against my father. But it’s still better to be ready. Whatever he wants to deal with, it’ll be with me but there’s no point in being caught off guard when people get caught in the crossfire.”

“Then what can we do to help you?”

“My father is a Prince of Hell. He rules a demonic dimension the size of Earth. There’s nothing you can do. I will deal with him when the time comes and hope I live to see the other side of it.”

“There has to be something better than that,” Isabelle interjected, fists clenched at her sides, knuckles white.

“We’re not letting you take the brunt of this,” Magnus added, coming behind M and laying a reaffirming hand on his shoulder. Jace, rightly so, remained silent.

“You should. Otherwise, we’ll likely all die.”

“Eh, we’ve killed two Princes of Hell, what’s another?” Jace gloated, flipping his seraph blade with arrogant proficiency.

“I promise to come to your grave,” M retorted slyly, raking a hand through his soft hair. He almost shuddered at the touch; it felt unnatural to be able to touch his hair. Nice, in a way, but unnatural.

“Is there not anything we can do?” Alec asked. “If only just to prepare for him.”

“Well, we haven’t actually found out how many portals there are, and how many demons are really coming through,” Jace said.

“We’ll go back on patrol later tonight. I need to talk to the Clave. I’m not letting them in on this, but they should at least know about the demonic activity. Izzy, can you talk to the Institute?”

“Sure thing.”

“So, what else?”

“M and I will continue to look into the time element. If we can’t beat Asmodeus, we can beat his plan.”

“Sounds good. But you’ll look for Gideon first?”

“Of course. I can track him.”

“But we don’t have-”

“He left all his things back at the apartment, at least one of them will do.” Alec nodded, glad for the order in the midst of the chaos.

“Okay. Then let’s go.” He didn’t mention that he felt like they were going around in circles. Look for the time element. _Look for the time element_. FIND THE TIME ELEMENT! Each and every other step felt like it was taking them one step further away from the end goal. And the one thing that could redirect them was just out of their grasp.

The room scattered, Magnus disappearing first to get back to the loft whilst Isabelle packed away her research, smoothing out her appearance before ordering a gathering of the Institute. Jace followed her out, leaving only Alec and M left. Alec knew he had to tell the Clave sooner or later but holding it off felt like the last bit of power he held in this perpetually off-balancing whirlwind.

And he wanted to talk to M.

The man looked haggard, dark circles under his eyes: some sort of mix between leftover makeup and genuine exhaustion. He was in Alec’s clothes, completely unaltered; he’d tucked the sleeves over his hands in a move that reminded Alec far too much of his teenage self. The only thing that looked like M at all was the beaming shine of his eyes, but even that felt hidden, shrouded by a curtain of black hair that had fallen out of its usual spikes.

“I assume you haven’t talked to Gideon?”

“I’ve seen him as much as the rest of you have.”

“Magnus will find him, if that’s any comfort.”

M scoffed. “Comfort? I don’t care where he is. I’d rather not speak to him.”

“Come on, don’t be like that. You two need to talk.”

“Why? What good will that do? I think he’s made it clear what we are now and I’m very much happy with that.”

“Happy?!” Alec exclaimed incredulously. “No offence, but look at yourself.”

“What about me?

“ _M_.”

“What do you want me to say? Gideon ended it, not me. I’m fine. Now how about we deal with my death-mongering, father. I’d rather not live out the plot of Magnolia in an alternate universe.”

“Magnolia?”

“Okay, bad connection, that film has all of one thing in common with our situation but I enjoyed it. Although, really, I shouldn’t have-“

“M!”

“What, Alec?” He sighed, eyelids dropping over his slowly dulling eyes. Even the gold seemed like a plain yellow in the face of despondency. “Really? Yes, I’m not looking my best. And frankly, in this situation, I’d rather you not pointing it out. I think it’s very rude. Back in the-”

“Stop doing that!”

“Doing what?!” M suddenly raged, approaching Alec with an air that reminded him of M’s power. He didn’t need magic for power.

“Stop…stop deflecting,” Alec said weakly.

“Do you want me to really deflect? Because I could make jokes until you fall asleep. But I’m not. Because despite everything, you’re still Alec and maybe Gideon doesn’t realise this, but I _am_ opening up so can everyone just get over themselves?”

“M-“

“Stop it. I don’t want to talk about it. And I’m about to have an unwanted reunion with my father, who is the _devil’s brother_ I may add, so maybe I could have some peace? Gideon and I weren’t meant to be. I see that now. Leave it alone.”

“It was one-“

“You don’t have all the information, Lightwood, and I doubt we would be having the same conversation if you did.”

“What do-“

“Go check the mirror. Then talk to me.” Standing tall under the shadow of his own fear, M pushed past Alec, face tight and left the room with a dangerously loud bang. Alec stared vacantly at his trail, before mustering the strength to do as he was told and check the mirror. Something was wrong and he would be damned if he didn’t figure out what it was.

The Institute was still busy, though patrols were out. People were preparing, or returning, or busy manning the stations to check for demon activity, ready to send out a message to patrol groups when necessary. Alec thought about the technology-less Institutes of Gideon’s dimension and wondered how they’d all survived.

Then again, if the Institutes were practically empty, maybe they didn’t.

The infirmary wasn’t as busy but it wasn’t empty. For the first time, other people were staring at the portal, looking a little confused. Alec wanted to defend himself but knew it would be unnatural. Although the resemblances between the two Magnus’ was a bit more clear, Alec looked very little like Gideon at all. To be defending some stranger would be odd. Then again, they’d all seen Gideon and M around the Institute by now. But maybe that made it worse.

Alec swallowed. He wondered what Gideon thought, having his whole life on show like this. Hopefully, he didn’t realise that people had been in other than those he’d actually met.

People nodded at him respectfully as he entered, some of them look a little more than nervous, but he was used to that now. The Inquisitor was powerful, and had the ability to punish for the slightest of law infractions. Alec had already known he wouldn’t be like that but the memories of old Inquisitors were still fresh, people still felt the same fear. Alec, for the most part, ignored it, letting the wounded be attended to (there was someone with a nasty looking demon bite and it seemed a Silent Brother had been forced to attend. That was enough to set off his internal alarms but he’d just have to ask Izzy later). The woman, at least, was distracted by the pain giving Alec the opportunity to get closer to the portal without the curious questions of a fellow Shadowhunter.

It all became clear soon enough.

It was like M’s words had been a jigsaw and it was suddenly being done for him. Things clipped into place. Too many things. In the span of ten minutes, he’d found out more than he’d ever hoped to. Things he didn’t like. Things he _hated_.

M and Gideon had broken up. Badly. Gideon was distraught. M was even worse (though Alec couldn’t actually _see_ that, but if M wasn’t answering calls _or_ opening his door then something was definitely wrong. Magnus liked a performance, especially when angry). But that wasn’t the worst of it. It made M’s words clear but not entirely reasonable.

But there was worst.

Sebastian had made his appearance. And suddenly, Max’s death made sense. Isabelle’s anger in the mirror was like lightning, striking Alec with such force that he could barely put the vision away, and compartmentalisation was Alec’s _strong suit_. Then there was Lilith. And Jace was being possessed, not Clary, in some bad mimicry of their own universe. It all went so quickly, such that the mirror was telling him a story like he was the messenger who would have to deliver the news because the mirror didn’t want to. It showed pain, suffering, grief and loss. It showed a world a thousand times worse than their own. In their own dimension, they’d had to fight off so many evils on their own side but in Gideon’s, they were alone. Tragically left to push through life without advice or companionship apart from each other, and even that was falling apart. Clary and Jace were gone. Isabelle didn’t seem to know what to do in their absence and Gideon seemed so miserable that he could barely make it out of his bed each morning.

His parents did not make an appearance.

The pictures seemed to finally die down, focusing on a scene Alec wasn’t sure he wanted to see.

But one thing was obvious: a war had begun.

~*~

The park at night was a cruel heaven. Stars shone dully in the sky, creating an abstract picture of beauty across the otherwise inky covering. The trees loomed like monsters, twisting and turning into sly versions of their delicacy. The icy wind pierced through Gideon’s skin, making him shudder with every breath as his teeth chattered relentlessly. He regretted not bringing a coat but knew he couldn’t go back to the loft now; by this time, they were all probably back there.

He couldn’t face them, not yet. _Any_ of them. He didn’t want to see the soft lines crease Alec’s face as pity took hold. He didn’t want to see Magnus spark with determination as he tried to reason. He didn’t want to the anger in M’s movements, like piercing knives, thrown carelessly around him, unaware of its victims.

So he kept to his lone bench, hand brushing against the rough wood, splintering his skin in a poor mimic of his heart. It was uncomfortable, and damp (though there had been no rain) and shatteringly cold.

He remained.

His muscles still burnt, and even a stamina rune couldn’t get him to move now. The sweat had long since evaporated from his skin but he still felt the sticky residue at his hairline and joints. He felt disgusting. Although that wasn’t new.

The park was almost vacant, although people did intermittently stroll by, usually with headphones in. Sometimes he could hear their music, the tinny bash of the drums or the low drones of the bass. It was times like this where he was envious of the future. His phone could play music, but it had none because he had no computer to upload anything onto it. It wasn’t a smartphone, it couldn’t do anything itself. When he’d seen a smartphone for the first time, on his first day in this dimension, he’d felt the churning resilience of jealousy. What would it be like to distract yourself like that constantly, to be able to remove yourself from a conversation just by looking at your phone instead? Or now, what would it be like to force the thoughts from his mind with mindlessly loud music. What would it be like to have a distraction?

He couldn’t even look forward to it in the future. Presuming they found a way home ( _they would_ ), they didn’t use technology there. The fact that they even had phones was a miracle. Idris allowed no technology at all; it didn’t even work. And Shadowhunters weren’t supposed to have any in the Institutes either, but the New York Institute was currently very empty so it wasn’t like anyone was going to police it. As long as he didn’t tell his parents, it would be fine.

For now, he was left in the vacant vacuum of silence, with only the distraction of strangers that sometimes found their way onto this otherwise deserted path. It wasn’t nearly enough to fight the cold, or his thoughts, or-

“There you are.”

He looked up, sighing. “Magnus. How did you-“

“You’ve left plenty around to track you with. Though now I’m thinking I should have used a jacket.”

“I’m fine,” he assured. It didn’t come out as he’d like, not with his teeth chattering through every other word.

“No, you’re not. You’ve been gone all day.”

“I went for a run.”

“That took nearly 10 hours?”

“It wasn’t that long.”

“No, but it felt like it. No one goes on a run that long.” Gideon shrugged. What else was he supposed to say? Sorry? He didn’t want to and with that, he kept his mouth resolutely shut. He stared at the tree instead, focusing on the brushing of the green, how it blended into the black canvas like oil paints. Not that Gideon had ever painted. He’d wanted to, once. But Shadowhunters didn’t do that. Or, at least, Lightwoods didn’t.

Magnus let him, for a while, staring right alongside him. But the cold was always going to catch up and beauty could only distract for so long. His teeth were not smashing violently and his shudders had become full-body tremors. Magnus, it seemed, had had enough.

“The cafe around the corner is still open. Let’s get out of the cold.” Gideon didn’t have any other option, he thought. Although it was unlikely Magnus would drag him down the streets screaming, he was a warlock who could probably warm himself with enough focus. He could wait Gideon out if he needed. Better they were both comfortable. “Fine. Lead the way.”

The streets began to crowd as they left the park. For New York, it was still practically empty, but this city never slept: it would never be truly silent. The cafe was almost closing but they snagged a seat, ignoring the side-eye from the tired-looking barista. He was tempted to put a glamour on but even he got the creeps when sitting in a closed cafe; he’d never watched a horror movie but he could imagine that was what they were like. Desolate. Empty. Each small sound like a siren to Paranoia’s open ears.

Jace would never make them do it again.

Their table was tucked in the furthest corner, two seats facing the wall, where drab art from generic artists hung. Gideon was sure that someone must have found beauty in them but he could only see the rough lines of his own scepticism. Or maybe it was just that coffee conglomerates didn’t have much care for art. Probably that one.

“Why didn’t you come back?” Magnus finally asked.

“I didn’t want to.”

Magnus sighed. “Look, I know this morning didn’t go-“

“I don’t want to see him.”

“I know. I don’t want to talk about him. That’s not what I’m here for.”

“Then what?”

Magnus raised his head and looked at the ceiling for a long moment, taking in a deep breath like he was preparing to tell some bad news. “You’re grieving.” It wasn’t a question. Gideon had no clue what he was supposed to say in response. When the silence pressed to close, Magnus continued. “And you’re running yourself to the bone. Your stamina rune looks scarred.” He was right: there was red scabbing around its edges like the stele had finally done the damage it would do to anyone who didn’t have angel blood in their veins. Maybe he was finally running out. It felt that way sometimes. “And you’re cold. And frankly, you look like a wreck in more ways than I can point out.”

Gideon huffed a laugh. “Thanks.”

Magnus managed a small smile but it was tainted by the gravity in his eyes. “And it’s because you’re grieving. And you’re hurt. And this morning with M was the last straw in this whole debacle. You lost your brother, and anyone else in your position would have the right to have time to themselves. And I want you to have that. You deserve that. But I’m not going to let you kill yourself doing it.”

“I’m not.”

“You are. I get it, you miss him. I understand the guilt you feel too. I’m immortal, _Alec_ , I’ve lost so many people and some of them weigh more heavily on me than others. The guilt I still for Ragnor tears me apart. That I couldn’t protect him. That I wasn’t there for him. But he wouldn’t want me to tear myself apart. The grumpy bastard would want me to hold my head up and do what’s good for me; that’s the only reason I have Alec. I owe him so much and even though the guilt still feels so heavy sometimes, that debt is more important.” Magnus swallowed, his eyes drifting to the scuff on the wooden table, his nail picking at it like he was uncovering his words beneath it. “Max was young, but he looked up to you. He wouldn’t want you to be like this. He’d want you to be brave, and strong, and happy, because that’s what he thought you always were and he wouldn’t want that to change.”

Gideon felt grief take hold in the building pressure behind his eyes, the tightening in his lips, the sob that felt heavy in his throat. But he didn’t quite let go on his hold of it yet. Not now. “I don’t know if I can do it.”

“You can. It’s not going to be immediate. You owe it to yourself to feel sad before you feel happy. But just remember that he doesn’t want you to be sad. Feel what you need to feel and then put on your best face and do what Max would want you to do. Because sometimes that’s the only way forward.”

Gideon nodded, not trusting himself to open his mouth.

“Now, we’ve got important things to discuss. We’ve had another epiphany in your absence.” Well, Magnus certainly did know how to change the mood.

“What happened?” Gideon didn’t know how much he cared; he longed for home, but the motivation to find a solution drained at him quicker each day. The days, no matter how few, seemed to drag out for centuries. He felt like he’d been here years with nothing for his efforts. Maybe it was just that he was being faced with the impossibility of his goals. Gideon had been taught since he was young to follow his leaders, not to be one himself. Determination was set in his bones, but he wasn’t used to leadership. He hadn’t been trained in it nor did he have any experience in it. Without guidance, he was lost at sea, and each failure felt like a personal slight. He was watching his dreams float away, never quite able to catch them.

“We think Asmodeus is behind the dimensional switch up.”

“You mean…”

“I know it seems daunting but we’ve defeated him once. We can do so again.”

“But he’s a…he’s a _Prince of Hell_.”

“And I’m his son. And we know he’s coming. We may not have the advantage but we won’t be caught unaware.” Gideon didn’t know what to reply, leaning forward to hold his head in his hands, his eyes staring down at the table as he slowly trailed his fingers down his face. “We’ll talk about it later. Just come back to the Institute with me.”

Gideon looked up, his blue eyes piercing. He still felt strange looking into Magnus’ brown eyes, like the image hadn’t quite conjured right. Then again, it was the same with all of him. Yet, the eyes yet to be a thousand times more unsettling. “Fine. Let’s just go.” Magnus smiled, a weak but kind smile, and drew himself up, rolling his shoulders back like he had been sitting down for far longer than he’d meant to. He looked down at Gideon once more. “The world isn’t against you, Gideon.”

“I know.” He didn’t think he did.

~*~

Alec ran into Gideon first. The ops room was slowly losing its buzz and the light was beginning to flood through the ornate stained windows, sending trails of red on the floor. He looked down, staring at the trails, reminded of the blood he’d seen spilt on Alicante’s streets. Nausea threatened to overcome him but he ignored it, keeping his composure in the face of his day-terrors.

“Where’s Magnus?” He asked, warily eyeing the other Shadowhunters in the room. They would need to be made aware of all this eventually, but not yet. The other world may have mirrored theirs but nothing was assured. A war there didn’t necessarily mean a war here, especially when they’d already fought Sebastian. But more blood than ever seen before in Alicante would only serve to panic. They’d fought one battle, and that had been enough. Mourning clothes had been worn for days. And yet, whatever Alec had seen there (god, he was going to be sick) was so much worse.

“He went to find you, I think.” Gideon looked ragged, worn to the bone and sickly pale, but Alec didn’t have time to question it. He had to tell Gideon what he knew. It was his world, after all. He would tell M afterwards. For now, having them together would only serve against his purpose.

“Ok, but I have to tell you something. It’s important. Can we go somewhere private?” Gideon nodded, looking like he would have said yes to anything with a worrying vacancy in his eyes, and trailed behind Alec. Gideon, still unfamiliar with the layout of this Institute, followed mindlessly, taking each twist and turn with a little caution as Alec led him further and further down the halls. Eventually, they reached a room - a bedroom, from the looks of it - pristine in its interior, as if it hadn’t been touched in years. It mightn’t have been. There were no personal belongings, only a strangely uninspiring blue bedspread and an old-fashioned wooden dresser. “Who’s room is this?”

“No one’s. I thought it was best we went somewhere truly private. I don’t want anyone else overhearing.” Gideon’s heart started to thump loudly, pounding against his chest like it was waiting to escape. He’d never done well with ambiguity; he had always been a man of certainty, following the rules and doing so perfectly, just as he’d been trained. “What’s happened?” Gideon dared to ask, his mind travelling to dark places. For a moment, he couldn’t get the image of his brother out of his mind; pale, dead, gone.

“It’s your dimension. I was watching it in the mirror and-“

It takes minutes for Alec to explain; the tell Gideon of the blood spilt at Sebastian’s hand, of Jace’s torment, of the Institute’s falling. Of the Endarkened, following Sebastian’s every move, every bit the loyal soldiers they’d been trained to be with the empathy of a psychopath. Of their quest to stop him.

Gideon didn’t say anything; listening was a skill he’d acquired young. He’d always been able to blend into the background, to let Jace take the centre stage and watch from afar. It made him dangerous as much as it made him kind. But something else terrible was ripped out of him instead. Not a sob, nor a cry. Just a mindlessly quiet whimper, held back by sheer force of will.

“What about my family?”

“I couldn’t see them. I don’t know.”

That was worse than knowing. He didn’t know how to react. At this very moment, his parents could be Sebastian’s servants, killing Shadowhunters with even less mercy than they had in their days of the Circle. Or they could be okay but fighting the largest force Alicante had ever seen, doomed to fail at the hands of a tyrant monster.

Both were sickening, yet in ways that couldn’t be correlated. So Gideon only let the pain flood through him, the gut-churning realisation that he was useless here. Of course, his other self was there alongside them, helping in any way he could. But Gideon wasn’t. Gideon was here, waiting in this tame version of his own dimension where the worst threat they faced was barely a blow.

He’d heard of Sebastian’s fight here, in whispers. But it was like nothing. A passing comment as to why Alicante had one less tower before. Why a friend of a friend of a friend was no longer alive. It sounded like a battle lasting minutes, never mind days.

According to Alec, in his dimension, it had been going on for weeks. And their numbers were dwindling, quickly. Either lost to the Endarkened slaves or to death itself.

He took in a shuddering breath and lay a hand over his heart, letting his fingers grip at his t-shirt like a safety blanket, the cotton running through his fingers as a reminder that he was still alive at all. In his worst moments, he let himself believe this was all just a dream.

“I have to go on patrol now, but I wanted you to be the first to know.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Gideon-“

“No, I am. I need to find a way back.”

“I…,” Alec’s argument was lost on his own tongue as it’s futility registered. Eventually, he sighed, “I understand, but be careful.”

“I will,” Gideon promised; he had to be, he had to get back.

~*~

They barely said their goodbyes before kitting up and heading out. Alec finally ran into Magnus and caught him up on what was happening, although leaving out the dimensional travesty for another time. They’d discuss that together. Alec didn’t want to recount it more than once. Isabelle decided to come with them. “It’s time I was actually in the field. Over the last week, you’d guess I wasn’t a Shadowhunter at all.” Alec didn’t argue with that.

That left M and Magnus to do their own thing. M had disappeared to god knows where, although no one seemed that interested in finding him. Magnus, on the other hand, had decided to return to the apartment and actually sleep for once. Or, well, so he said. He never could sleep when Alec went out into the field but he’d try his best, for the sake of keeping his energy up. If they were about to fight a 1000x worse version of his father, he needed every bit of energy available to him there. And although sleep was only one way of doing that, it was probably the most necessary. The rest, Magnus would work on tomorrow.

They took the subway to Brooklyn, Alec and Gideon listening to Isabelle and Jace’s chatter in deadly silence. Neither one of them pointed out the drenching air of grief, likely chalking it up to Gideon’s recent loss. God, Alec thought suddenly, so much had happened in so little time. Even in the other dimension, Gideon had been allowed a period to grieve. Here, he’d been given mere hours and piled on top of that was a desperation to get home and help. Instead, he was stuck here to wait for a Prince of Hell to come and try to kill them.

Were things ever going to look brighter?

It took longer than any of them wanted to get to Brooklyn but once they were there, it was barely a five-minute walk until they were in the area. The stench of demon was clinging, like there were hundreds of them, even though the streets were desolate.

“It’s always like this,” Jace pointed out. “Every report says it smells like a demon attack yet there’s never any demons.”

“Because they’re spawning and then leaving,” Alec said, bringing his seraph blade out. Gideon waited for him to call a name but instead, it just lit up with his touch. It wasn’t the first time Gideon had seen it yet it never failed to surprise him. He couldn’t help it when he drew his own sword out, the quiet murmur ‘Afriel’ drawing him more than a few curious looks.

“Spread out and search the area. You find a demon; kill it,” Alec ordered, ushering them forwards. They all stayed within sight and running distance but whilst Alec took the main road, Jace split of right into a narrow alleyway, perfect for fighting one to one. Gideon, lacking the same knowledge of strategy, awkwardly shuffled to the left. No-one stopped him, urging him down the wide avenue. It was good for a bow, he could shoot most things from afar unless they struck him from behind. Taking this into account, he backed up against the building, the rough stone digging into his back. His eyes trailed upwards, trying to find a better vantage point for shooting but New York was cruel and it’s skyscrapers unfairly flat, meaning that unless he was willing to break into one of the buildings and leave his back open for attack, he was stuck to the ground. Sighing, he put away his blade and nocked an arrow and patiently waited for the demons to come to him.

The sounds of fighting came quick enough. First, from Jace, where the unnecessary taunts filled the tense silence, cut off by the sharp whistle of a seraph blade striking and a demonic screech capturing whatever peace had been left. Alec was next, although the soft grunts were barely perceptible as he continued his confrontation. From his position, Gideon could just about see him, spinning with expertise Gideon wished he already possessed. He was good, he knew he was, especially with a bow. He was just…well, he wasn’t so good at other things.

He continued to watch Alec, his bow held up but relaxed, in position to move at any time. “Gideon!” Jace suddenly shouted, voice urgent; Gideon’s eyes travelled to Jace, ready to protect him from the gathering demons. But Jace hadn’t been shouting for help. No, the demons were coming from Gideon’s left, crowding around him with venomous fangs and dirty globs of slobber slowly trailing across the concrete.

They were already too close to shoot, not unless he wanted to get swiped at whilst he was still focusing on the far off hoard. Throwing his arrow back into his quiver and his bow over his shoulders, he reached back for his seraph blade and before he could even whisper a name, the first demon was on him.

It was everything he had feared. In the midst of his battle, he couldn’t catch sight of Jace or Alec, only the disgustingly distorted bodies of the demons, never-ending in their rotation. It felt like they were infinite. The adrenaline pushed Gideon through the first few minutes, swiping with his blade and watching them flutter into dust rather than an abominable slimy ball (well, one good thing came out of this dimension. Definitely less ichor). But he tired quickly. Whilst his arms were used to the tension of a bow, his body wasn’t used to the constant fluidity of hand-to-hand combat. His mind wasn’t trained for the unexpected changes as he was attacked at all sides. He was used to protecting other people, never himself.

It was no surprise when he got hit.

He was on his knees in a second, blood pouring from his stomach. It was almost beautiful, the way it gushed, red flowing to the ground and pooling in the concrete, creating a dangerously abstract painting. He brought his hand to it, surprised by the warmth of the wound, and how quickly the blood painted his hand red, pushing out of the corners of his hold. Stuck in his delirium, another demon got him from behind, swiping three talons across his back. It was shallow, but it hurt, and Gideon let out a cry as he was pushed forwards onto his hands and knees, one hand still clutching his gut.

He was surprised by how little they seemed to be attacking him now, as if he was already dead. They seemed to have turned, taking focus on another Shadowhunter. Alec. Unlike Gideon, he was an image of perfection, managing the demons on all sides with long-learnt proficiency and speed. He cut a line towards Gideon, Jace keeping a few of them busy in the meantime, and gasped at the sight.

“Jace, we need to get out of here.”

“There’s too many of them!”

“Go call Magnus! I’ll hold them back!” Alec shouted over the loud screeches of the remaining demons. By Raziel, that noise was awful. Jace, surprisingly, didn’t resist. He ran off, taking out as many demons as he could on the way, until he was in the relative safety of the next block down.

Gideon couldn’t see him anymore. But he couldn’t see much. His eyes were watering but his cheeks were dry. The blood had started to crust on his hand, turning a deep shade of rust. His hand gave out, sending him tumbling towards the concrete, his head hitting the road with a solid thump, sending him reeling. The world was spinning but distinctly as anything, he could hear Jace shout “I’ll cover you!” as his body was lifted from the ground, his head falling uncomfortably backwards. He didn’t have the strength to lift it but the pain was enough to conjure tears, tracking up to his eyebrows and into his hairline.

Finally, as the bright lights of a portal came up in front of them, Gideon let go and the world went black.

~*~

“What happened?” M demanded, striding towards them in a vitriolic march. The Institute lights seemed to bare his soul, the black clothing uncomfortably like mourning clothes as he stared down at Gideon, whose blood was still pooling in his t-shirt.

“Demon venom. And scratches. We need warlock assistance.” M visibly gulped, unfathomable guilt filling his eyes. Magnus, for his part, was finally letting the portal close behind him, panting. “I need help M. I held that open for a long time, my power is already depleting.”

“I- let’s go to the infirmary.” Without the time to argue, they brought Gideon to the infirmary, ignoring the violent image in the corner, where hellish sands and sky demons were descending on a group of unprotected teenagers.

Immediately, Magnus set to work, bringing over potions and running shaking fingers over Gideon’s prone form. He was as white as a sheet and the blue only made is starker, like he was a corpse already.

Alec had turned his head, arms folded defensively across his chest but Jace didn’t seem to be able to look away, like it was his actual parabatai dying. M remained in the corner, eyes filling with unshed tears as he tried to conjure up magic behind his back. He managed a single spark.

Isabelle ran in afterwards, hair plastered to her forehead. “What-“

“Demon scratch. He’s lost a lot of blood and whatever is left is infected.”

“But- but, what happened?”

“Don’t send any patrol groups out less than five people. The demons are coming in waves, large ones. You need as many people at once if you want to reduce losses.” Isabelle nodded, hating that it was under her call that anyone would die. It a sacrifice everyone made for leadership.

“M,” Magnus gasped, his magic shuddering. “He’s rejecting my magic. I…you need to help.” The room’s eyes flew to M, a collective gasp echoing in the room as they saw the tear tracks running down M’s cheeks.

“I can’t,” he gasped, bringing his hands to his front, showing them the putrid amount of magic he had left, a single crackling shock buzzing between his hands. “It’s…it’s gone. Has been for a while.”

Alec rushed to his counterpart, hand going to the wound. “Magnus, is there any other option.”

“We can…we can get the silent brothers but…” Magnus gasped, his body collapsing forward, barely held up by his other arm. “You have to be quick.”

M collapsed in the corner, legs huddled up to his front. Never in his life had he felt so weak, not even when he’d been teetering on the edge of Blackfriars Bridge. He was like a child, clutching onto the last thing he could trust. Tears drowned his skin and sobs were torn quietly from his lips.

Gideon was dying and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. It didn’t matter where they were, what had happened, Gideon didn’t deserve to die. Especially not because of him. Or his father. Or this godforsaken mess that M had gotten them into.

Because, he finally realised, this was his fault. There was no doubt about that. No doubt at all.


End file.
